Harry Potter and Type Moon
by Undying Soul98
Summary: Harry Potter discovered a certain Visual Novel series in his youth, so became a bit too prepared for a world of Monsters and Magic. With the Church on the move, Vampires actually doing something, Dumbledore panicking and a prophecy being completely ignored... truly the world needed a Hero, and it might just find one.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

**AN- To be honest, this was an idea that pretty much spontaneously came to mind following me after finishing 'Shinji and Warhammer 40K' (Sort of finishing, it hasn't updated in awhile), when the author claimed that all it took to make one of the most disliked anime characters in existence become the living embodiment of The Rule Of The Cool was to insert Warhammer 40K somewhere along the way. I said to myself, "What other badass and dark franchise could turn any wuss into a hero?", thus I settled on the Nasuverse. **

**Admittedly, Harry Potter isn't exactly a disliked character who needs a lot of help to become awesome... it was simply one of the better franchises that the Nasuverse could actually affect and would crossover well with. (I deliberated with Yukiteru from Future Diary, Shu from Guilty Crown, maybe even Saito from Familiar of Zero, or perhaps Suzaku from Code Geass... none of them fitted really) Oh yeah, just realised how cool it would be if Suzaku was a Mecha junkie when he ended up piloting the Lancelot. That would be pretty awesome.**

**Also... this concept requires Harry Potter to play through both Tsukihime and Fate Stay Night... the former of which came out in 2000, and had an English Translation released in 2006. Ooops. As such, simply to make this concept work in the first place, Harry and all of his year group were instead born in 1994 instead of 1980 and both Fate Stay Night and Tsukihime were released earlier, while each had English Translations out. Simply blame Zelretch for this... everyone else does. Nothing else will radically change because of this, the same events will happen as in canon, they shall simply happen later.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just look at me, I write Fanfiction. Would I do this if I actually owner Harry Potter or the Nasuverse? No, if that was the case I'd sit around all day in a money jacuzzi. Harry Potter and the Nasuverse belong to their respective owners, J.K Rowling, Kinoko Nasu, Type Moon, and everyone else.**

Harry James Potter was never exactly _normal_, and was frequently told as such by his relatives. For one thing, Harry was orphaned at a young age, when according to his strict Aunt, his parents died in a car crash in October 1995. Because both Lily and James Potter died in the crash, Harry found himself in the _loving _clutches of his _charitable_ Aunt and Uncle. Simply replace 'loving' with 'reluctant' and 'charitable' with 'likes to lock their nephew in a cupboard', when describing Harry's relatives, then you would have an accurate description of just what living with Pertunia and Vernon Duresley was like.

Harry couldn't say that he was happy living with the Dursley's, but it was the only life he knew, so as such was used to not feeling that illusive feeling known as love. He couldn't exactly compare what he felt every day to anything else, simply because the only emotion he ever received of his relatives was dislike and resentment, or in the case of Dudley, Harry's cousin, sadistic glee upon discovering he had a punch-bag that would never retaliate.

Another odd thing about Harry Potter, was not necessarily he himself, but the odd events which seemed to surround him. Harry couldn't explain why impossible things seemed to surround him, even at the age of seven, why his teacher wig went blue, or why any of the other impossible things occurred. they simply did.

Suffice to say, the Dursley's weren't pleased about having such abnormality in their relatively normal lives. After all, Vernon Dursley was pleased to be normal, thank you very much, and wanted his family to be as such. So when the ungrateful brat (In his eyes) started to force his abnormality upon his wonderfully average family, he took it as an insult and a challenge. Vernon swore to either stomp the so called Magic out of the brat, or keep him locked up in the small cupboard acting as Harry's bedroom, so that Harry's Magic would never do any damage to his family's every day lives.

The final odd thing about Harry Potter, (Save for the odd lightning shaped scar on his forehead) was that absolutely no one had tried to do anything to help him. Harry had no friends at school, thanks to Dudley and his gang ostracising him. No teachers at school deemed his bullying worth inquiring into, nor thought that his state of second hand clothes and his constantly miserable demeanour was worth looking into. Neither did any women from Social Services came to check up on the well being of a recently orphaned boy. It was rather unlikely that not one person sought to help Harry Potter, yet it still happened. Harry Potter grew up alone and miserable.

Harry honestly saw no point in continuing with his life, even at the young age of seven. The only thing pushing the emerald eyed boy onwards was stubbornness. Stubbornness and the small hope that one day he would be able to escape from his awful life.

This is how Harry Potter would have normally continued his life, up until his eleventh birthday, when he would be told that he would be allowed to attend Hogwarts, a school built to teach young witches and wizards how to use their powers, when Harry would find a new home and friends he could trust, as well as discovering that he had much hardship to overcome. This is how things would _normally _go, but on this occasion, in this timeline, upon this translucent glimpse into the Kaleidoscope, things changed for Harry James Potter. Some things for the best, other things for the worst.

XXXXXXXXXX

It all started on a regular Tuesday, during a quite frankly normal lunch hour, when Dudley and his gang were partaking in their favourite past time; hunting down a certain messy, black haired youth. As normal, Harry continued to run away from the unholy quintet of Dudley, Piers, Dennis, Gordon and Malcolm. He skidded down the empty hallways and slid across barren corridors, twisting and turning through the sharp, maze like corridors in the hopes of escaping a beating from the bullies.

Harry actually smiled upon realising that his lithe frame was outpacing the think and bulky forms of Dudley and his gang. He couldn't become complacent though, Dudley knew all of his regular hiding places by now, so Harry would need to continue moving in order to stay un-bruised for the day. Unfortunately, Harry was only seven. He couldn't keep up his pace, so slowed to a wheezing stop, having been forced by his complaining body to take a small breather.

All the while, Harry was aware of the incoming march of feet heading his way; the head start he had built up was quickly fading away. Harry wished more than anything that he was far away form this place, from this abysmal world itself. Harry wished he could be whooshed away from all of his troubles, no matter how unlikely such an event would be.

Harry needed to hide. Not for long, simply for a long enough time for the group to pass him by. Harry made the seemingly small decision that would change his life forever, and walked up to the nearest classroom, expecting the door to be locked, and tried to open it anyway. Thus, the young Potter boy was rather excited that the door _had_ in fact opened. He zipped inside, flung the door shut and dropped to the ground, closing his eyes and praying that Dudley would run past.

With open anticipation, Harry waited, hearing the footsteps get closer and closer.

Thud... Thud... Thud... Thud.

The footsteps stopped, Harry held his breath, waiting silently, still with shut eyes, still hoping.

Thud... Thud... Thud!

The footsteps started again, as Dudley swore loudly to one of his friends. They began to walk away. Harry sighed in relief, glad that just this once he had avoided a beating. The seven year old boy stood up, deciding to survey the empty classroom he had barged into, since he had nothing better to do with his time.

It was a computer room. Large, bulky boxes and monitors filled up the desktop space running along the outer rim of the classroom, leaving the centre of the room empty, where Harry walked into as he looked around in amazement. Retro, stylish, new, all of the Desktop computers glowed with a bizarre inner light, highlighting just how mysterious Harry perceived the devices to be. Harry was not exactly computer savvy, the only experience he had ever really had with the puzzling devices was when Dudley received one for Christmas the previous year and had promptly told Harry to never even think of touching it. Because of this, there was a certain alien feeling Harry attributed to computers, so he avoided them like the plague. Here though... he was alone, with nothing but the lightly glowing screens to welcome him.

"_Welcome." _they seemed to call, _"Welcome... why don't you log on?" _

Harry seriously wanted to, screw what Dudley said! _"What Dudley doesn't know can't hurt him!"_ or so was the thought process running through Harry's head. He pulled a plastic chair with a metal frame out form the desk, and planted his bottom upon it. Harry blinked, he seemed to have sat something. Reaching underneath himself to fumble for the mysterious object, Harry found a square like envelope.

The envelope was brown and inviting, with frayed edges and was torn along one side to allow its contents to be extracted. Harry knew there was something inside it, something exciting and new. He didn't know how he knew that he had found something remarkable, only that he had!

Shakily, Harry looked round the room, just to check that there weren't any teachers hiding in the corners of the room, or crouching under the desk, just waiting for some poor sap to wander in and pick up the package. Uncle Vernon had drilled it into a five year old Harry's mind that he was _not _to open any envelopes, even if they were addressed to him, and especially not if they were addressed to someone else.

Harry checked the envelope once more. It wasn't addressed to anyone. Perhaps Harry could disobey his Uncle... just this once. After all, Uncle Vernon only said to never open an envelope if it was addressed to himself or someone else, he said nothing about if there was _no_ address! Upon clarifying that he was in fact completely and utterly alone, Harry tipped the contents of the envelope into his eager palms.

The weight in his two hands was not exactly heavy, far from it, it was very light. Harry held two plain, metallic disks, with a small title printed onto the top surface of each one in thick, sharp text, written on with black marker pen. Harry knew nothing about disks or computers, but he knew that these sorts of disks had to be inserted into those weird slots that open with a press of a button, and that they had to be clean and shiny to work. Turning each over, the disks seemed to be shiny enough and lacked any distinct scratches or marks to impede their performances. Returning them to their face up positions, Harry decided to use his relatively good reading skills (For his age) to try and decipher the names of the disks.

The first one sounded foreign, having been identified as **'Tsukihime'**, whatever the heck that meant. The second disk seemed much more English, being called **'Fate/Stay Night'**.

Harry grinned. He had no idea what these disks contained, only that they sounded exciting and that he _had _to know what was on them! And luckily for him, there was about ten computers around him to try them out on!

Quickly, Harry logged onto the schools generic account, imputing the basic user name and password that all students are given, then inserted the first disk he looked at into the machine, **'Tsukihime'**.

Upon the program starting, he knew his hunch was correct, what he found truly was special. From the first moment that the atmospheric music began to flood the room from the small speakers, to when the first few lines of text showed up, Harry knew that he had found a small slice of if not happiness but excitement, because while Harry may not have been the best reader he was still pretty good for his age and was able to understand the text, so knew that what he was reading no fairy tail...far from it. It was dark, and it was gritty. It was harsh and rough, with only a small, shallow undertone of happiness intertwined within it. It was **'Tsukihime'**.

**'Suddenly, I awaken with a start. **

**The night is pitch black.**

**And no one else in the house.'**

XXXXXXXXXX

For forty glorious minutes, Harry let himself fall into the wonderful story telling of **'Tsukihime'**. It was hard work, since Harry was sure that what he was reading much more than he had ever read in a singe sitting... _ever_. Harry found it difficult, some of the big words used were hard to figure out, most of the terminology made little sense to a seven year old's mind, while other words were foreign and required Harry to puzzle over their meanings for a few minutes each time. '**Tsukihime'** just seemed so much darker and mature than anything he had ever read before.

Despite this, Harry continued to read, gaining what little understanding he could fathom, trying to understand what the plot was doing, who the characters were, throwing himself into the mind-frame of young Shiki Tohno, to see just how everything fitted together.

Eventually, things started to make sense for Harry. The tale of Shiki seemed to resonate with him. How could it not? A young boy is involved in an accident and is sent away to live with his relatives because his original family, the Tohno's, disinherited him, because he was anaemic. It loosely matched up to Harry's own situation; he had been involved in a car crash, was sent off to live with the Dursely's and was despised because of something he had no real control over. Just like Shiki, who was disinherited for being anaemic, something he couldn't help!

As the story continued, Harry began to fall more in love with **'Tsukihime'**, upon realising that there were multiple selections he could use to push the story along. It seemed so... realistic. He could _really _imagine he was in the position of Shiki, Harry could actually live out another life, deciding things for himself!

Harry had just finished the first meeting with Shiki's sister, Akiha, as well as the second meeting, when he realised that the tone of the story, of the game, was changing. It edged back to the much darker original feeling given off by the prologue. Harry knew that this was _definitely _not a fairy tail!

After all, that music! And that man... that dark man with the dogs, Harry just knew that he must have been a villain, only a villain could have music such as _that _accompanying him! In the game world, where Harry was seeing an entire world to live and experience, he knew that the villain would always loose. Even a game like this wouldn't be any different. There was always a happy end, this game would be no different.

"_Surely Shiki has to be the hero!" _Thought Harry expectantly. There is always a hero and a villain in any story, and in this case it must be an open and shut case. _"Shiki defeats the evil, dark man and saves the day, saving the princess in the end!"_

That _was _what Harry thought, at least until he saw (Or read) his new hero cutting an innocent girl into seventeen pieces with a fruit knife, a girl he had never even met before. _"How?" _Wondered Harry in disgust as he read the graphic description of the girls severed body. He knew he should throw up or something, it was like a bad horror film or something; a film a seven year old boy probably shouldn't watch yet still does. _"He was just like me... how could he a kill a girl? Isn't he supposed to be the hero?"_

Wordlessly, Harry knew he had to continue. This new world seemed so perfect to him, he got to experience someone else's life, so he had to continue. He had to know why Shiki did it. He had to know if he himself had the potential to do such a thing, since he saw so many similarities between Shiki and himself. Harry believed that he most likely hated his parental guardians, but even so, would he want to see them lying in a pool of their own blood, would he want to have been the one to put them there? Harry didn't know, he didn't really _want_ to know. Either way, maybe seeing the ending to Shiki's story would help him?

The door to the classroom opened with a creak. Harry spun around so rapidly and violently that he almost fell off his chair in surprise. "It isn't what it looks like!" Blurted out the young seven year old boy, as if he had something to hide.

The man that entered the room laughed deeply as he shut the door behind him. Harry immediately noticed that the most prominent feature of the man was his age; wrinkles lined the edges of his face and hands, while his hair was a distinct shade of grey. The man also had a slight beard, highlighting the slight grin etched onto the man's face. "Stand easy, you have nothing to fear." Stated the man as he approached.

"Are you a teacher?" Asked Harry uncertainly. "I mean, most teachers here wear a tie and don't really smile."

"What can I say," Decided the man. "I smile because I enjoy life."

"But are you?" Asked Harry again. "A teacher, I meant."

"I suppose that in a way I'm a teacher." Grinned the elderly gentleman once more. "I have taught one or two people a thing or two, in my time."

"Please don't punish me!" Pleaded the boy honestly. "I just wanted to see what was on the disk!"

The man raised one eyebrow, as if he was not expecting the question. Again, he laughed. "Oh, you mean that?" he pointed at the computer monitor the currently running game was displayed on. "No, I'm not going to punish you for playing a game. That is what children do after all."

"But its not mine!" Blurted out Harry. "I saw it lying there so picked it up."

"No harm done. I had completely forgotten that I left that there."

"This game belongs to you?" Stated the Potter boy in disbelief.

"Yes, I simply left it here by mistake." Explained the enigmatic man with a shrug.

"Does **'Tsukihime' **have a happy ending?" Asked the boy, curious to know if the hero, no matter how bad he seemed when he had been playing the game a few minutes ago, managed to defeat the bad guy and save the day.

"It depends." Said the man. "No story has a happy ending, if the hero wins then the villain is sad, while if the villain wins the hero is sad. **'Tsukihime'**__can have different endings, just like life. You simply need to persevere to find that one ending that you want." Following this, the man turned around and motioned to leave.

"Wait!" Protested Harry. "Mr Teacher... don't you want your game back? I mean, you left it here, and now you're just going to leave without taking it back?"

"Well of course, I already know how it ends, that story is concluded for me, new ones await." The door was opened and the man slipped through, sighing slightly, a smile still proudly worn upon him, leaving no sign that he had ever been there in the first place. "You can keep it, you look like you need it more than I do. Also, play the other game as well... I think you'll enjoy it."

"Goodbye... Mr Teacher." Concluded Harry, happy that the original owner of the game was willing to allow him to keep the disk, as well as the sister game he had not started yet. The old fellow had also resolved Harry's fear that the story would not receive a good ending. All he had to persevere. If he wanted Shiki to not be bad again, he would have to try hard to make sure he stays good next time. He _would _make sure there would be a happy ending!

DING! DONG! Tolled the school bell signalling the end of lunch.

Harry sighed, so much for finding that happy end. He would have to save and return to class. Perhaps he could come back next lunch time, or even after school, to finish it! Yes, Harry resolved to ask his teacher later on about it. It wasn't like the Dursley's wanted him at home anyway.

Harry saved the game, ejected the disk, and slipped it along with **'Fate/Stay Night' **into the original envelope the duo of games came from. He logged off the computer, slipped the envelope into his pocket, and shut the door of the computer room softly behind him as he left.

XXXXXXXXXX

Time passed by, as time does. Harry received those two games near the end of September; it was now near the beginning of November. He had managed to receive permission from both his teacher and his legal guardians to stay behind after school to use the computers; his teacher agreeing because he saw no reason to not let the boy stay, while Vernon and Pertunia were only to happy to be without him for an extra hour.

Since then, Harry had continued to play **'Tsukihime'** with passion, throwing himself into that dark and edgy world every lunchtime (After escaping Dudley's gang) and for an hour after school everyday. It was slow going, and it was sometimes scary to read, but Harry slowly devoured the story with an almost single minded determination to finish the game, to achieve that ever distant happy ending, the ending that seemed so unlikely to occur, as events continued to escalate in Misaki City.

Finally, using his amateur reading skills, Harry finished the game, completing the Arcueid Route with tearful eyes, considering how despite his best efforts, despite all the bad endings he had experienced, the final ending was just so bitter-sweet. It was difficult for a seven year old like Harry to understand how such an ending could come to pass, with the idea of self sacrifice being completely alien to him. Harry couldn't see why Arcueid had to leave, why she had to leave Shiki. Why couldn't she and Shiki stay together forever, like all the other authors in the world would write, if they had the chance to?

They were in love, the hero always gets the girl damn it! Harry didn't really understand love, (although by the way **'Tsukihime' **described it, it seemed to be an amazing emotion, one Harry wanted to someday experience himself, although he didn't really like the odd scene where Arcueid took off her clothes. Upon glancing at the scene, Harry had felt really awkward, like he was watching something he shouldn't have been or something, so shut his eyes and held Ctrl until he was pretty damn sure it was over) but he understood enough to know that it was cruel to part the duo from one another at the end, even if Shiki had originally killed her!

Regardless of this, Harry had still reached the end of **'Tsukihime'**, and he was glad that he had played it. The seven year old was sure that he had matured from playing such a dark game, since he couldn't quite see good and evil, black or white, only different shades of grey now. Harry had lost confidence in heroes in general, they seemed to be almost as bad as the villains themselves if **'Tsukihime' **was anything to go by, which was pretty much all the young boy had to base his opinions off, since he owned no books of his own to compare the themes shown.

As Harry lay in his cupboard bedroom the night after completing the Arcueid route, he couldn't quite believe that it was all over, that he was done. That it was complete. Finished. There was nothing to do now. In the past, Harry had been content to do nothing in his free time, simply avoiding his relatives whenever possible. Now though, he would miss spending his lunch and after school time playing that game. It was a fundamental part of his schedule now, so he felt empty without **'Tsukihime' **to fall back on.

Harry fumbled in the dark, reaching under his pillow to find the envelope he found all those days ago. Deciding that the contents of the envelope were too valuable to wave around to the world, Harry had taken to hiding his most treasured possessions under his pillow when he wasn't looking at them, only taking **'Tsukihime' **out to hide inside a second envelope, that Harry had salvaged from the recycle bin when Aunt Petunia wasn't looking, so that he could smuggle it into school to play.

Harry ran his fingers over the worn envelope, simply basking in the joy that he had something to call his own, a game to actually play, a world that only _he_ knew about to explore. **'Tsukihime' **might have been dark, it was the most graphic (And horrifying in some cases) thing he had ever seen or read, but it had still saved Harry from his own despair. The contents of that envelope was his bible, saviour, friend and father, all rolled up into one. Harry knew it wasn't right to think like that, that he shouldn't get obsessed with any one thing, that he should be playing with toys and other children, not reading graphic visual novels... it was just that finding those games had been one of the best things to ever happen to Harry, even if he _had_ only owned them for a month, they were still important to the boy.

Speaking of which, Harry almost giggled with glee upon realising that he had forgotten something very important. _"I completely forgot about the second game!" _Exclaimed the boy happily. With frantic movements, he tore **'Fate/Stay Night' **from its makeshift container, then examined it._"Mr Teacher said that I would like this, so maybe I should play it tomorrow? I'm not sure if it'll be as good as __**'Tsukihime' **__but it should be almost as good!"_

Suffice to say, Harry had trouble sleeping that night.

XXXXXXXXXX

Playing **'Fate/Stay Night' **was a very different feeling to playing **'Tsukihime'**, in Harry's opinion. Admittedly, he could tell that they were written in the way, by the same person, (Because Harry had been reading so much due to the nature of how one must play a visual novel, he had become better at it as a result, so was finding it easier to spot such things) but there were some very key differences between the games.

Firstly, the main character. Once again, Harry was able to abandon his own personal reality and take the place of Shirou Emiya across his adventure, but Shirou was still a different person to Shiki, so the thought processes were different. Harry didn't know what to think about playing as a different character to Shiki. Shiki had been a hero to Harry, someone with a similar background to himself, who despite not being a knight in shining armour, despite doing some bad things, despite having the faults that all humans suffer, was still able to do the right things in the end. (With Harry leading his decisions, of course)

Shirou was a different type of kettle, being focused and driven, with a zealous tenacity that the other laid back protagonist simply lacked in comparison. Born amongst hellish fire, with no parents or memories to call his own, adopted by the man who saved him, then taught Magecraft because he desired to be a hero like his father; truly Shirou overcame Shiki when it came to the fan worship Harry felt. Harry still loved the idea of heroes saving the day and getting the girl, so this boy that wanted to become an Ally of Justice resonated with Harry in very different ways.

Both were imperfect of course. Shiki was tempered by his occasional willingness to do bad things, because he was in essence a normal person before he was drawn into the world of Vampires and Executioners, something Harry could relate to.

Shirou however, was shown up as a fake as the story progressed, taking up the ideals of his father not because he wanted to but because he wanted to gain redemption for surviving the ordeal of the Fourth Grail War, while other around him burned to death. A very cheery thought indeed.

As Shirou gradually played the game in his free time after school, he saw horrors far surpassing that of what he saw while running through **'Tsukihime'**, with events such as the half dead children beneath Kotomine Church etching themselves into his young mind like permanent marker upon a whiteboard, shaping what the young boy began to think about the world as he developed without a role model, to motion him down the correct path in life. Truly, Shirou was a fool, a hero who failed to save everyone like he intended, but pushed on for that outcome regardless, a stubborn act if there ever was one.

Harry could respect that though. He saw Shirou face his demons and overcome them, so decided that he too wouldn't allow his own demons to pull him down, that he would overcome them despite the difficulty, just like his imperfect hero did. A Christian might think 'What Would Jesus Do?', but Harry wasn't taught Christian beliefs, so his personal creed was 'What Would Shirou Do?'; with 'What Would Shiki Do' and 'What Would Arcueid Do' following closely behind, since they were the only other people who's opinion Harry trusted.

Harry still had difficulty understanding the concept of love, even with the additional experience of seeing the thick headed Shirou fall for the noble and chivalrous Saber, it was hard for him to see how it felt, or how it occurred, or why people fought so _damn _hard for it! (Again, Harry skipped the odd scene where _two _girls started doing odd things. _Two! _Harry wasn't sure how long he'd be able to resist finding out what actually happened during these skipped moments, but he was determined to make these ignorant moments last as long as possible) Even so, Harry had figured a bit more about why Arcueid left Shiki, through studying the two new heroes.

Saber left Shirou for her duty, because sometimes experiencing love once is enough, while Arcueid left because she had experienced love and was willing to let it end for the safety of the one she loved. Damn, he respected those two brilliant women for being willing to act so strongly, Harry wasn't sure if he'd be able to act like that.

Harry began to wonder if his own deceased parents loved him enough to do something like this.

Another curious point for the seven year old boy, was why Shirou was willing to let Saber go while Shiki could not. In the end, he assumed that it was to do with how Shirou wanted to follow his ideals to the end or something like that, so could respect the dense superhero for his determination and willpower.

Still, it was now the middle of December and Harry was experiencing the same mournful feeling of completing a game he had felt following **'Tsukihime'**. _"Perhaps I could replay __**'Tsukihime' **__and find a scene or two I missed last time, I think Ciel Senpai mentioned that there was another route or something. I sort of want to see more on that Ciel lady,, even if she did seem a bit scary." _Thought the boy happily as he walked home from school, leaving on the bell for once since he had no plans to stay behind at school and play one of his games, since he only had the recently completed **'Fate/Stay Night' **tucked away inside his second hand winters coat.

"Hey you!" Squawked a voice sharply. Harry looked up quickly and saw Dudley and his gang blocking his way. The speaker was a small looking boy that was often compared with a large rat, Harry knew he was called Piers Polkiss and that his presence before him meant things were going to escalate; since one rat meant that others would soon follow.

"Oh," Replied Harry with false confidence. "Its you."

"Where the heck have you been at lunch times?" Demanded the chubby pig leading the group, as he walked up. "Every time we try and find you, you're not there!" 

"No where much." Replied Harry quickly, subconsciously tightening his hold on the disk inside his coat.

"You owe us lunch money!" Sneered the equally repulsive boy known as Dennis.

"You know Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never give me lunch money." Protested Harry to the group.

"That doesn't matter." Grunted Dudley as he stormed up to his cousin. "What does matter is that we haven't been able to _play_ with you for aaaaggeeesss!" He emphasised the last word with a beefy finger poke.

"And you know what we like ta play." Agreed Gordon as he cracked his knuckles loudly.

"Harry hunting!" Was Malcolm's response, an equally large grin plastered on his face.

Turning to run, Piers leapt on Harry eagerly, grabbing the one available arm, pulling it sharply behind Harry's back. The boy in question yelped in pain, almost dropping _the _disk in shock.

"Hey!" Complained Dudley savagely. "Someone grab his other arm."

"No, no, no!" Yelled Harry in distress.

"He won't move Big D!" Explained Gordon as he frantically tugged on the arm clenched tightly underneath the seven year old Harry's coat.

"He's hiding something!" Noted one of the bully's.

"Yeah," Noted Gordon as he scratched his flabby cheeks. "He is."

"Take it off him then!" Stated Dudley, as if it was obvious, which to that group it sort of was. Clearly, Harry was hiding something from Dudley, meaning someone_ had_ to have given the freak something. That annoyed Dudley. Only _he _was supposed to receive presents of people, his mummy had specifically said so after all! Oh well, he'd just prise it from Harry's hands if he had to, then he'd break whatever it was just to teach the freak a lesson.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NOOOOOOOOO!" Cried Harry in despair. The one event he had been dreading had happened, Dudley was going to get his hands on his disk, his precious disk! Harry knew his cousin amazingly well, there was absolutely no chance that he would ever get it back if it was taken from him.

"Damn it! The freak's being- AAAGGHHH! He bit me!" Exclaimed Gordon, releasing Harry's arm so that he could suck his now bleeding index.

"Get it!" Stomped Dudley. "Hold him down, break his arms... whatever!"

"We're tryin'!" Snapped Piers as he continued to hold the pinned down arm he was in possession of, starting to struggle. He was _actually _leaving finger tip marks in the freaks flesh, he didn't even seem to care!

"NO! NO! NO, NO, NO!" Chanted Harry desperately as two of the boys forced his second arm into the open, along with its valuable cargo, wishing for a miracle to happen. A passing police man, a lost teacher... _anything _would do!

"I've got it!" Declared Malcolm as he presented the recently thieved envelope to his leader. "Its some stupid envelope or something!"

"NOOOOOOO!" Begged Harry, tears in his eyes. The only things keeping him going now were the two games that old man had given him, he had no other toys, no other things of value to his name, they were _everything _to Harry! Everything! "Please! Give it back, I'll do anything."

"You want it that bad huh?" Asked Dudley, amusement in his eyes upon watching Harry beg.

"Yes, yes!" He vocalised, openly sobbing now. He was only seven after all, crying was all he could do.

"Yes, yes!" Mocked one boy as the others laughed.

"I don't know." Noted Dennis reluctantly. "He looks like he's hurt... like, _really _hurt! I don't know Big D, I thought we were just gonna mess him up a bit is all! This just seems... cruel."

"Shut up!" Yelled the spoiled leader. "We're just teaching him a lesson!"

Harry continued to pray for a miracle... nothing happened. He was on his own. Unless he did something, one of his prized possessions would be destroyed before his very eyes simply because there was some stupid, spoiled kids that were jealous of him, who didn't understand just how brilliant the work of Kinaku Nasu was, who couldn't comprehend just how much the dark adventures of Shiki and Shirou meant to him!

How Harry wished he had the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, he would happily cut these fools up! How Harry wished that he had Saber's super strength, or Arcueid's Marble Phantasm, or had some all powerful Noble Phantasm to get him out of the terrifying situation he had found himself in. How Harry wished for a hero!

Unfortunately, such things are only fiction. Harry knew this. There really wasn't a True Ancestor Princess, there were no Servants to call to battle, no heroes to save the day. This was real life, and no matter how much Harry desired otherwise that was how the world was going to stay.

Shiki couldn't help him.

Shirou couldn't save him.

There was no hero around the corner to magic away his problems.

"_Magic... magic, if only there was magic in the world." _Cried Harry silently. _"if only Magecraft existed, at least then I could learn how to use it and gain power of my own, no matter how small it would be!"_

"What's this?" Wondered Dudley, as he plucked **'Fate/Stay Night'** from its sheathe. "A disk?"

"GIVE IT BACK!"

"What the hell! He's trying to break loose!"

"GIVE... IT... BACK!"

No, there was no magic in the world.

"Stop struggling... you... you... you freak!" Spat Piers, no longer trying to hold back using his full strength to stab his bony fingernails into the boy.

Yes, a freak. Harry was a freak, everyone told him that. Uncle Vernon told him that, the kids at school told him that, the _world _seemed to tell him that. _"Freak... freak... freak.." _The harsh reality of the world seemed to state. _"Freak... freak... freak... freak..."_ Was this punishment, was this what he got for existing? Was this happening simply because impossible things seemed to originate around him?

"You freak!"

Words hurt, words cut and words burnt. How Harry wished he could forge his heart into steel, how he longed to become immune to such insults.

"No one's gonna help you!"

Yes, no one was coming to help Harry James Potter, like normal. Everything was still the same, nothing was EVER going to change! Harry wanted his game back, these bullies were stopping him, no one was going to help him, so if Harry wanted change, he would have to be his own damn hero!

"_WWSD- What Would Shirou Do?" _Wondered Harry. _"He'd fight for what he believed in, he'd overcome this pain and weakness, no matter what I took, he'd never abandon them! If his body hurt, he'd cut off the pain! If his mind ached, he'd fight unconscious! If he wasn't strong enough, HE WOULD MAKE HIMSELF STRONGER!" _Motivation burned deep within Harry, he would be his own hero, he'd be like Shirou and Shiki! Harry could almost hear his hero shouting words of encouragement at him, telling him to get up, to get stronger, to take back what was rightfully _his_.

"_Shirou would reinforce himself." _Decided the seven year old. _"He'd use the only thing he had in his arsenal to allow him to overcome those that were stronger than him!" _As his motivation continued to burn, as all the resentment he had ever felt for the five before him began to accumulate and leak out of him, something unseen and untapped turned themselves on within Harry, something unusual began to leak.

Harry always knew he was abnormal, he was constantly told so by his relatives. Odd things seemed to happen around him, like how the wig of one of his teachers turned blue, or how his hair had magically grown back after being cut off. Surrealism surrounded him, whether he wanted it to or not.

So if Harry made impossible things happen, why couldn't he make it happen again, just this once? Why couldn't this impossibility be tapped, be understood, be controlled? Harry knew Magic didn't exist, _everyone _knew this! But even so, Harry wanted to thrown logic to the wind, since if he had made one impossibility occur in his lifetime, he could manufacture another!

Unseen power was emitted from an unseen source, and like how Shirou Emiya accomplished the impossible, like how Shiki Tohno achieved the unachievable, Harry decided that he would be _damned_ if he didn't do so too!

"GGIIIIIIVVVEEEE... IIITTTT... BAAAAAAAACCCCKKKK!"

Shirou would overcome his physical limits by reinforcing himself, and Harry wished to imitate him.

As such, Harry's body 'Magically' became stronger, reinforced, able to survive the punishment of suicidally picking a fight against five stronger opponents to retrieve a precious belonging. As such, through pain, sweat and tears Harry overcame Dudley's gang. As such, Harry made the first real change to his life, through his own two bruised, bloodied hands.

XXXXXXXXXX

Christmas had came and gone for Harry, who was happy for the festive period to be over since it had stopped him from playing **'Tsukihime'**, with Dudley proving to no longer be a trouble for Harry, and no presents given to him either.

Following the fight, Harry was locked in his 'room' for three days straight, with no food or water... but it had been worth it to the young lad, his dreary, melancholy life had changed. When he was allowed to go to school again, he was no longer relentlessly picked on by Dudley and his gang, since they were now scared stiff of him, so they stopped openly targeting Harry. Admittedly, the other students still ignored him out of habit since the idea that Harry Potter was not to be approached had been rooted deep into their psyche by Dudley, even if the boy in question no longer picked on the outcast, but things could still change.

Things were looking up though. Just before school broke up a girl actually said "Good morning!" to him, with a smile. It was a novel experinece for Harry, to be greeted with no malice at all. This pleasant improvement only got better and better after the holidays ended (when Harry was able to play his video games again) since the other children had begun to talk to him more. (With a cautious degree of reluctance that Harry was willing to accept)

Harry didn't care for these other children though, who were only being nice to him now that Dudley was no longer targeting him. He couldn't bring himself to form any bonds with them... not yet anyway. Harry was content to play his visual novels and dream of a dark world governed by Gaea and Alaya, the spirits of the world and of humanity, of a place where Magecraft could be learnt by those with the potential, of a realm filled with Vampires and inhuman blood; a reality filled with colourful and exotic characters, that were all willing to talk to Harry and give him their advice.

Being like all children, Harry used to have imaginary friends, to play with when he was alone in his cupboard or isolated at school, to talk to when no one else could or would. They never lasted very long though, being replaced fairly quickly since Harry had no experience of how these friends should act, so couldn't maintain the illusion of them actually existing.

Now, he had no imaginary friends. He didn't need them. The only voices he needed to listen to were that of the characters he admired. As he approached the end of the Ciel route in mid February, Harry had taken to asking the same questions that he had wondered during his fight with Dudleys gang._"What Would Shirou Do? What Would Arcueid Do? What Would Saber Do? What Would Shiki Do?" _They were logical questions, since each of the people mentioned had accomplished amazing deeds, and anything they would do if in his situation, would surely be the right thing to do! (Save for cutting girls into seventeen pieces and other stupid things, but he could forgive them for making mistakes. They were only human... well, half of them were, at any rate)

Regardless, it was so much easier to go about making these decisions if he gave each of his internal heroes a voice and a personality akin to the original ones they were based off; so that's what Harry did. Whenever he was confused or unsure of what to do, he asked these heroes what _they _would do. _"What would you do?" _He would wonder.

Saber would normally advise for him to go for the honourable route, the brave one, the hard path that took so much more effort and energy but produced results that you could be proud to look upon. Saber was once King Arthur, so ruled her country kindly but with a strong hand, trying to guide it towards a utopia, meaning that Saber's opinions often reflected her own methods of governing.

For example, when the other kids in school talked about the odd Potter boy, Harry looked inwards and asked Saber what he should do. _"Be strong my Paige!" _He would almost hear her say. _"Don't listen to those fools, a King must always keep calm, must always stay resolute. The gossip of peasants mean nothing to you. In my experience, they can talk all they want about you, so long as they do not question your rule!"_

"_Let bygones be bygones. If Dudley stays away things will get better, so there's no use in kicking up a fuss over something so small, only to isolate yourself again." _Concluded the voice of Shiki, who more often than not recommended that he simply ignore matters, fitting in with his laid back nature. So far, throughout the two months Harry had been using this coping mechanism, there had been no situation bad enough to warrant Shiki advising Harry to fight back, or to act. Unless they threatened him, unless situation demanded that Harry should act, Shiki believed in the path of normality, that you should not stray from your chosen course of action, save for if the fight was worth fighting for... if so, then and _only then,_ you should fight.

"_Who cares?" _Asked Arcueid cheerfully. _"Who cares what they think so long as you get to continue being happy, so long as you get to play your games? Life's about being happy, taking the chance to grasp happiness when and where you can; life is for 'what if's'! Just have some fun~! Prank 'em or something if they continue being spoil sports~!" _Arcueid's only opinion in deciding Harry's chosen path was to select the one which made him the happiest, the one that was the most fun. Often, her suggestions were ridiculous, requiring Shiki to talk her down before things got out of hand.

"_Calm down Arcueid." _Sighed Shiki. _"Pranking them is so much effort, it would take so much time, and would only start a prank war or something. Harry can't play his games if he's always on the lookout for the next water balloon."_

"_Why do you only yell at me?" _Frowned the Vampire Princess.

"_Calm down you guys." _Cried Shirou. _"Why can't we all get along! I just want people to be happy! Pranking doesn't save people!" _Unfortunately, Shirou was accurate to the source material, being thick headed and stupid, accepting of all people, as well as backing down easily in any argument that occurred inside Harry's head. The only time this did not apply was when Harry had the opportunity to help someone, at which point the figment of the seven year old's imagination became a real pain in the arse. _"Lets try and help them! Then they might even like you if you do that!"_

"_Such a course of action is foolish Shiroo!"_ Reprimanded Saber sternly. _"Not everyone can be helped, and these fools ignored our young Paige when he was in need of assistance, so why should Harry help those that abandoned and ridiculed him? Ignoring them is for the best."_

"_HA! Those mongrels!" _Sneered the final voice in the back of Harry's head, a voice Harry didn't even try to create but just seemed to spontaneously burst into existence, who's only purpose in life seemed to be to give Harry a selfish opinion to counterbalance all the selfless and noble persona's dwelling inside the young boys brain. _"Simply humiliate them for daring to mutter such gossip about you." _The voice was that of Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, a voice Harry really wished he could get rid of, but seemed to stick around no matter how much he tried to not imagine him saying anything. _"You are my Choreboy! Any insult upon you is an insult upon me, so do NOT disappoint the King by doing something foolish like letting them live!"_

"_How do I represent you when you're just a voice in the back of my head that I made up by accident?" _Asked Harry with a slight twitch brushing across his face, much to Dudleys amusement at seeing something irritating the freak, even if he wasn't the one causing the discomfort.

"_Quiet Choreboy!" _Demanded the figment of his imagination.

"_Do not call him your Choreboy!" _Snapped Saber. _"He is my Paige... and you have been outvoted. Me and Shiki agree with ignoring them, while Shiroo will probably support me over you!"_

These internal debates inside Harry James Potter's head never really went anywhere, with the frequent arguments leading to Harry face planting more often than not. Regardless, Harry liked asking these people for assistance, it was as if he had friends of his own.

XXXXXXXXXX

Harry's eight birthday occurred, with nought but an old pair of socks given to the boy, not that he cared. The son of James and Lily Potter had never been happier; he thrived within the dark realm of the Nasuverse, finding Dead Apostles in every shadow, fighting Ghouls and Familiars whenever he shut his eyes to dream, puzzling out arcane secrets whenever a textbook was opened; to Harry every library _had _to be the Clock Tower and every teacher _had _to be a Magus in disguise. The cruel world created by Type Moon was brutal and uncaring, a franchise dark enough to warrant second glances from _even_ adults! The Nasuverse, in a nutshell, was a collection of stories that should probably be savoured as a teen or an adult, so should not be approached by children. Harry didn't know this, and if he did, he wouldn't care either. **'Tsukihime' **and **'Fate/Stay Night' **was his passion, so with the Unlimited Blade Works route out of the way in **'Fate'**, and the Ciel route completed in **'Tsukihime'**, Harry believed that he was starting to understand the full complexity of the Nasuverse, so didn't want to stop puzzling it out until he had the full picture.

His eight birthday also warranted a change in Harry, a change visible to teachers, students and the Dursleys alike. The first thing people noticed, was that Harry cared much more for his academic progress, knuckling down to catch up with his class, even if it did grant him his relatives ire when he surpassed his spoiled cousin in terms of intelligence. Harry wasn't stupid, he simply knew that putting effort into lessons led to the Dursely's becoming irritated, so used to slack off in class since he saw no reason to try. After getting to know Tohsaka Rin during the UBW route however, he couldn't just _not_ put any effort in. Rin became the class idol, even while dealing with her Magecraft studies and her own family issues, so Harry felt he had to do the same. He would imitate the genius girl and continue pursuing knowledge, since that's how a Magus would act!

Heck, Harry began to admire Rin so much that he even developed an extra voice in the back of his head, a voice that could be often heard arguing with Inner Shirou or providing logical answers to whatever question Harry had raised, providing the typical Magus response.

Another change, was in how Harry interacted with others. Dudley was still refusing to go near Harry, and was even cutting down on bullying other people due to the boy threatening him, (At Shirou's insistence. _"It's for the greater good! Stopping that tyrant will help the entire class!" _He said) but for awhile Harry still seemed distant, unreachable, unrelatable. He became a lot more friendly following the Ciel route, choosing to actively talk to his class mates and enjoy the pleasant normality associated with attending educational facilities. Like his school work, this happened due to what else but video games, effectively giving all politicians claiming that video games made people anti social and violent, the metaphorical middle finger. Seeing Ciel's pain and desire to enjoy the small things people take for granted (Due to missing out on them during her life before Roa possessed her) made Harry realise that he himself only lived once, so should try to enjoy his chance at attending Primary School.

The final change was known only to Harry, although it was just as significant as the previous two improvements. Harry Potter began to try and learn Magic in his free time.

It wasn't surprising that Harry had figured out that he was capable of using Magic. Once upon a time, Harry might have looked upon the impossibilities happening around him with a distant eye, unwilling to relate the acts of improbability to himself, but after the fight with Dudleys gang, one thing was different. Harry had to look back at that time his teachers wig became blue, and that occasion when Harry's hair grew back after being cut, simply because he couldn't isolate himself from those events any longer.

Harry had managed to _willingly_ perform Magic, reinforcing himself so that he did not take the full force of the damage the five bullies had inflicted upon him. Harry knew that it wasn't possible to do such a thing, and the fact that he had meant that the impossible could occur. Magic was real!

So if Magic was real, Harry wanted to learn it! All the best people knew it! After all, Shirou and Rin used Magecraft! Heck, even Ciel could pin her Black Keys into peoples shadows through Magic, thus, he too had to emulate these people!

The going was tough though; Harry didn't spontaneously become capable of slaying Merlin, he didn't develop superpowers overnight, he never became God's gift to Magic in an instant. Far from it, Harry struggled. The now eight year old boy had no mentor to teach him the basics, and no textbooks to inform him of how to activate the amazing power he held, so was forced to figure out everything from scratch. This was particularly vexing for the boy, since the only Magic he had any experience in was that of Magecraft appearing in the Nasuverse. As such, Harry approached Magic as such, following the methods and rules that Rin established concerning Magecraft, while trying to reverse engineer a way of puzzling out his own abilities.

Harry couldn't even figure out how to get his powers to turn on! Looking to the explanation of Magic Circuits for assistance and inspiration (The idea that vessels carry Prana around the body and can be turned on and off), Harry decided to follow Shirou's lead and attempt meditation.

XXXXXXXXXX

For the first few weeks, the boy tried doing this, spending his free time in his 'room' collecting his thoughts in the silence and trying to 'feel' these vessels, while also thinking of some sort of Aria or incantation to switch his 'Circuits' on. Unfortunately, no progress was made this way. Harry had no idea how to meditate properly in the first place, and didn't really know what to look for since he still didn't wholly understand the mechanics of casting used in the Nasuverse. He also acknowledged that whatever the hell he was doing was probably different to Magecraft, so his attempts were probably useless, but like a certain stubborn hero, he persisted.

After a while, Harry used some of his meditation time to instead look back on the few times he had used Magic, to see if he could analyse something, sort of like a scientist would, since by the way Rin explained Magic, it seemed like Magic was just a branch of science found alongside Physics, Biology and Chemistry, involving the manipulation of reality... or something like that. Harry didn't really know, he was only eight!

After realising that his teachers wig went blue because he was angry, and that he managed to regrown his hair over the course of a night because he desperately desired to not look like an idiot at school, and that his body became reinforced because Harry desired to punch Dudley in the face for stealing his game, as well as all the other little incidents; Harry realised that whatever he had done (Harry still hadn't decided on a name for whatever the hell he was trying to achieve) happened because he had either desperately wanted it to occur, or had been feeling particularly emotional when it happened.

Harry applied his palm to his face in a sign of irritation,as he sat thinking about it during one break time at school. His Magic was linked to his willpower and emotions! It was so obvious!

He could almost hear the sarcastic voice of Rin congratulating him for taking so long to figure it out. _"Idiot! Your Magic has always acted in response to your will, you should have seen it earlier!" _In a way it _was _pretty obvious when he looked back at it, but he didn't see how this new knowledge would help him figure out his Magic. _"You're still an idiot!"_

"Damn it! My Magic's different to your Magic! What would you do then... _sensei_?" Growled Harry, saying that line out loud in irritation.

"_If you can't figure out how to turn your wizardly powers on, then replicate how you were feeling when you did it in the past, then see if anything happens, you idiot!" _Inner Rin really seemed to enjoy calling Harry an idiot. Then again, she was about as tsundere as they come.

"_Oh yeah!" _Smiled Harry. Now, which memory was he to pick, and what magical thing was he to attempt? In the end, he settled on the most powerful feeling he could remember; the time when he fought Dudley, selecting the reinforcement to accompany it. Harry marched over to an abandoned

coffee mug, left behind on a bench by a teacher when an injured boy had required assistance, and decided that he would try to reinforce it.

Harry shut his eyes, thinking back to the day he snapped. He remembered the panic and the confusion, he looked back at the feeling of helplessness that accompanied it, as well as the red veil of anger that seemed to overwhelm him as Dudley placed his sweaty palms over _his_ property! Harry's hand's began to shake, his grip tightening as the memory replayed itself. Tightened throat, wet eyes, burning determination, aching scars, but above all else, one feeling burned strong, one desire had enveloped Harry's being as something previously untapped had opened itself temporarily.

That desire was simple, so simple that even then as he was trying to find it, it slowly hummed within him, desiring to be let loose again. _"Screw logic... to hell with this stupid reality! I want the impossible! I want to hunt Apostles, I want to summon a Servant, I want to be a Magus and I want to find The Root and wield a Noble Phantasm and fight for the Grail and meet Shirou and Shiki and all the rest and escape the damn Dusleys... I WISH THE NASUVERSE WAS REAL!" _That's what burned inside him, the wish that all those he respected really walked the earth. _"I desire the impossible!"_

Like a trigger was pulled, something invisible and warm began to flow from what seemed to be the centre of Harry's being into the mug that Harry was gripping. Not like a Circuit though, something didn't flicker on that was always there, no pipes were created to funnel the energy, nothing like that. The feeling was more akin to the pool of energy in his very being moving on its own accord, sending out a tendril of this power through Harry's arm and hand, into the cup, expending the stored power it held to create the effects Harry desired.

Harry let this process continue for a minute, as he continued to focus on that anger and that desire, until eventually Harry could continue no more. With all of his power, Harry lobbed the Mug at the nearby wall; fully expecting the sound of shattering to ring out. Instead, he heard a deep THUD. Opening his eyes, Harry looked at the unbroken mug with a feeling of pride and satisfaction, realising he was one step closer to reaching the impossible.

XXXXXXXXXX

By the time another year had passed, Harry had managed to advance his Magicraft (As he was now calling it, since giving things names seemed to help organise his thoughts concerning the subject) quite a bit farther, upon the realisation that his Magic was linked to his emotions and willpower. Harry tended to practise his Magicraft in the mainly empty computer room during break or at lunch time, (When he wasn't playing his visual novels. Coincidentally, Harry had slowed down his playing of the games to enjoy them more, so he could understand the concepts better, so had managed to finish off the Akiha and Hisui Routes, and had replayed Fate to try and get a better idea of Rins explanation of Magecraft, for his own 'studies', with studies being used in the barest of ways) since the cupboard under the stairs was dark and enclosed, so it was better suited for meditation rather than Magicraft.

Harry had never stopped meditating, because it was a relaxing exercise for organising ones thoughts and was normally something that wise old men did, so seemed like a cool idea to continue it. After Harry's discovery on emotion and willpower, as well as its relation to Magicraft, meditation became even more important for Harry's magical advancement. The reason was simple, Harry still had no idea how Magic fundamentally worked. The few 'spells' he had ended up developing relied on creating effects through his willpower, so needed to figure out how it _actually happens_, which meant a whole lot of study into the actual commodity of Magic.

Harry knew that it came from some sort of core inside him, and that it would gradually restore itself after being expended, but had no idea what it literally was or how it worked. The emerald eyed boy did have a basic idea of where the core was located, and had taken to trying to sense the tendril of magical energy he could manipulate, by sending it round his body and sometimes out of his body too, just to see the effect. This was why meditation was a cool skill to have, he could figure out stuff a lot easier when he had a clear head... and stuff.

By this time, Harry had quite a few general 'spells' developed, and felt reasonably proud with the arsenal he had, considering Inner Rin couldn't fault the basic skill set he had in comparison to the Magi of the Nasuverse, who suffered from specialisation due to the Origin and Element of the Magi, something Harry lacked.

The first, and one of Harry's favourite spells, was called Alteration, and was named after the Magi equivalent skill. Admittedly, in Nasuverse Alteration was simply giving an object a property or effect it originally did not have, while Harry's own technique was much more versatile, only being named Alteration for nostalgia's sake. Harry's Alteration, in a nutshell, was basically changing entire properties of an object, changing its shape, appearance, colour, size and density. It was still technically the same object, only changed.

For example, if Harry was to use this technique on a strip of metal, he could 'alter' it so that the shape of the metal was different, extending it into a pencil like shape, while it would still be counted as the original strip, only reformed. It had limits though, Harry couldn't remove concepts or alter those pre-existing in the object prior to the Alteration, like how Harry would be unable to remove the concept of a metal being an electrical conductor from its design.

Spell number two was Reinforcement, which was a copy and paste of Nasu's Reinforcement, since Harry just loved to plagiarise Nasu for all that his franchise was worth. Harry loved to reinforce items already in the world, since it was just so damn easy to do, and had such positive impacts on whatever he was trying to improve. Self Reinforcement was also practised, albeit carefully, to prevent him over-reinforcing himself. That would sort of suck.

Third was Levitation... which did just what it said on the tin. By extending out his 'magical tendril' and attaching it to an object, Harry was able to move it around to a certain extent by spending his Magic, although he was limited in range since Harry could only stretch his energy out by up to three metres, meaning it was actually pretty impractical in most scenarios.

Then there was Transmutation... the act of turning one thing into a completely separate thing, effectively giving reality the middle finger by telling it that an object in question was actually something different all together. Unfortunately, reality tended to be a bitch and figure out it was tricked after a while, so Harry was unable to keep the gold he accidentally created one time, since it eventually reverted back to the plastic from which it was unintentionally forged from.

Much to Harry's disappointment, his attempts to manipulate the four elements of fire, water, earth and air was a colossal failure. He just couldn't figure out how he could produce fire of water simply from using his own Magic. Even at nine, Harry also knew that playing with fire was bad, so experimenting with the elements was something he decided could be left for a while, so as to prevent the Great Fire of Little Whinging.

The Magic he had was enough for Harry to be content with. It was enough to carry out the plan Harry had been contemplating for a while. The project itself was simplistic and basic, with absolutely no forethought put into how the later stages would go down. Thus, it was closer to a general motivation to do something, rather than an actual plan with actual steps. It consisted of a single thing; leave the Dursley's. Join the circus.

To a nine year old it seemed to be a good idea. After all, what kid has never dreamed of running away from home and joining the circus? Harry was just going to follow through on the threat, no more, no less. With his few 'spells' it would most likely be very easy for the boy to pass himself off as a stage magician. Another benefit was that he should hopefully get enough of a pay for him to be able to visit an internet café or two along the way, so that he could finish off the final route for **'Fate/Stay Night' **and **'Tsukihime'**.

As such, Harry snook small quantities of food away day by day and stored it in his cupboard. After he collected enough to survive comfortably for a week or so, he chucked it all into a plastic bag, along with two bottles of tap water, his two disks and his single pair of loosely fitting spare clothes.

Deciding that he was finally ready, Harry set off on a cloudy Saturday morning, the sort of morning that makes any slightly lazy person lie in for an extra hour or two. The time was around eight, when he was certain that his relatives would all most likely be asleep, so they would be unable to stop him.

"_I've done it!" _Exclaimed Harry giddily, speeding up as he left Privet Drive behind him. _"I've actually escaped from the Dursleys!"_

"_Don't speak to soon." _Snorted Rin. _"You've hardly gone fifteen metres from your captors and you're already celebrating!"_

"_Oh yeah." _Realised Harry sheepishly. _"I'd better speed up!"_

"_Ha!" _Laughed Gilgamesh haughtily. _"So you actually went through with it Choreboy? I'm surprised. After you refused my thoughtful idea of poisoning the whole lot of those mongrels, I thought you were going to take their treatment without complaint."_

"_Shut up Gil!"_

"_Indeed." _Agreed Saber gracefully. Harry could almost see her scowling at her long time enemy. _"It would be increasingly dishonourable to kill ones relatives with poison... no matter how despicable they are."_

"_Too much effort." _Was all Shiki offered.

"_The only dishonourable thing is to let mongrels boss you around as if THEY were the ones in charge!" _Declared Gilgamesh, stating the fact as if it was the only conceivable option.

"_I don't want to kill them though! What sort of hero would kill their own parents?"_

"_A rubbish one." _Suggested Shirou helpfully.

"_Bullshit! Of course you want to kill your family!"_

"_But I don't want to kill my family!" _Protested Harry sternly and defiantly, even if a small part of him did in fact want to not so secretly kill his family. Unfortunately, Gilgamesh was something like a subconscious projection of Harry's more rueful potential... so he sort of had a point. _"I just want to leave!"_

"_Ha! That's how all practitioners of familicide started!"_

"_I do not want to practise familicide!"_

"_That's a very specific denial, Harry!" _Giggled Arcueid internally, seeing the entire argument as nothing more than entertainment.

"_How the hell do you even know the word 'familicide' anyway Gil? I mean, if I don't know it how the hell do you?"_

"_Can't we all just get along!?" _Begged Shirou wearily.

"_NO!" _Was the unanimous response of all parties involved. Harry sighed, feeling as fed up as Shirou with the entire conversation. Seriously, having six voices in the back of your head really makes any road trip a downer, especially if none of them are good travelling companions.

"_All of you shut up unless you want me to turn this damned body around!" _Snapped Harry as he continued to walk towards the edge of Little Whinging, the plan to run away and join the circus still in full swing.

"_Go ahead!" _Dared the King of Heroes. _"maybe then you'll grow the balls to poison the mongrels!"_

"For the last time," Punctuated Harry slowly. "I. Am. Not. Going to. Poison. My relativ-" One moment Harry was on the street corner, his measly belongings trussed up inside his flimsy carrying case; the next Harry was back inside the house he had been trying to escape from. Bright, afternoon sunlight filtered into the hallway he was standing in, through the glass panel in the front door. "Wait a minute... what?" Harry blinked. He blinked again. Blink. Blink. Yes, he was most definitely inside number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging. "Seriously. What. The. Hell?"

It did not make an ounce of sense to Harry, how he could he have been full streets away from his relatives house one minute, then returned to his captors the next? It was almost like Magic... hang on... _Magic! _Of course! Other people must have the ability to perform Magic, Harry realised this months ago, since he wasn't so conceited to believe that he was the only person out there capable of performing the impossible. There had to be some sort of Magi Association or something! Only if there was a group of people running about blanking memories and covering up uncomfortable incidents could Magic have still been unnoticed by the general public and government!

"Boooooyyy!" Came the tyrannical roar of one Vernon Dursley, striding into the hallway that Harry was currently inhabiting.

"What is it uncle?!" Snapped Harry for a change, still internally puzzling over how the hell someone managed to perform TELEPORTATION of all things, how he could replicate it himself, and who the hell would want to perform it on him, as well as why. "I'm sort of facing a crisis here!" 

"What the bloody hell are you on about, brat!" Retorted the man greatly resembling a walrus with a moustache. "I don't care what sort of crisis you're on about, but you've been sick in your cupboard for the last four days now! I'm not going to let you slip out of your duties of cooking dinner now!"

"What did you just say?" Harry felt like he had just missed something rather large. "Did you just say I've been sick for four days, and need to make dinner?"

"You heard me perfectly boy! Now get in that kitchen and make me and my family something to eat!"

"That makes no sense." Declared Harry, turning his back on his uncle to think. "What the heck are you on about? I left not twenty minutes ago to join the circus, then found myself here!"

"Then join the bloody circus!" He snapped. "See if I care!"

"Fine then!" Harry took this as an opportunity to leave, grabbing his plastic bag (Which felt lighter for some odd reason) and left. Storming away like the Devil was on his tail, Harry practically ran away from his house, leaving his local area as physically quickly as possible. All the while, Harry kept an eye out for some odd man in black ready to leap out from some old ladies garden and teleport him again. All seemed to be go smoothly, until-

"Damn it!" He cursed, realising he had once more been taken unaware and had been transported back to his house. "I swear to the Root that the next time someone tries to do that, I'm going to get really, really, really annoyed!"

"You!"

"Oh come on!" The emerald eyed Magic user turned back towards the kitchen, where Petunia Dursley strolled out, looking like terror incarnate.

"Stop dallying in the hallway! You have school today, and you aren't even dressed yet! What would the neighbours think if they knew that you were skipping school? Why, I'd never hear the end of it!"

"First it was Uncle, now its you. Seriously, what is going on?!" At first it was a pretty funny joke, but now it was grating on him like a slab of warm cheddar upon said grater. "Not ten minutes ago he was complaining that I had apparently been sick for four days and that I had to make dinner!"

"Six days actually."

"_Six?_" The number just seemed to increase, confusing Harry further since nothing around him seemed to be making sense.

"Yes, you only got better yesterday." Concluded Petunia with an upturned nose. "Now get ready for school!"

"Just hear me out," Began the boy, not really liking where the conversation was going. "I think that I must be going mad. I mean, first I leave to join the circus in the morning, _then _I somehow find myself back in this house with Uncle complaining about dinner somehow. So I left again, found myself here again not ten minutes after leaving, with you claiming that I've been sick for 6 days!" 

"That is complete rubbish!" Snapped the spiteful woman. "Stop lying to stall for time, go to school! If not then I'll call Vernon back from work!"

"What's the date!" Yes, the date would be the only way to prove that no time had passed what so ever, so he couldn't possibly have been sick for six days, especially since he couldn't actually _remember_ being sick.

"The eighteenth. Why?"

Petunia was rewarded with seeing Harry apply a palm to his slightly sheepish looking face. Time really _had _flown by! He had first left the Dursleys on the twelfth. Thus, six days had actually passed. Harry just didn't remember them.

"Come on! I know that I made that whole 'man in a black suit' reference earlier, but _memory manipulation_! That's conspiracy theory territory damn it!" Whatever next, a school for Magicians? "I totally call bullshit!"

"Watch your language you ungrateful brat!" Following his declaration of bullshit, Harry was clipped round the ears for wasting time. "Go... to... school!"

"No." Harry turned on his feet, plucking his bag from the floor, checking he had all of his previous belongings (His games in particular) and left, slamming the door shut behind him in his haste.

"Little brat." Muttered Petunia, planning how to make the orphans life a living hell when he would have to inevitably come crawling back to her household, since the boy was only nine after all, so could not last on his own in the big, bad, wide world. Unfortunately, she would not remember the conversation between herself and her nephew ever taking place in the first place, so that particular punishment would never actually be implemented.

Harry, now with the knowledge that he had more than likely _actually_ managed to run away for six days from the Durselys, but had been forcibly brought back home, with his memories of the time erased, (Along with the memories of his relatives it seemed) decided to keep his eyes out for Agents K and J as he hastily fled the area. If these potential government dogs ever showed their faces, the boy would be more than happy to introduce them to his Magical talents. Levitating pencils up their nose, through their ears and into any other notable holes in their anatomy would teach them to do any freaky stuff to him!

Again, Harry found himself in the hallway of Privet Drive, no better off than he had been before he started his aspirations of escape, being only slightly more irritated at his situation.

"Oh, its you." Now it was Dudley pestering him! Harry wondered if there were any pencils in the nearby area.

"_Now you're talking, Choreboy! I knew you wouldn't be able to resist forever."_

"_SHUT UP GIL!" _Finalised every other voice in Harry's head.

"So you're finally out of bed?" He asked. "I can't say that I care, but I missed tormenting you while you were dead to the world. Seven days, I think."

Not even bothering to respond, the door slammed shut once again. _"I only lasted a single day this time. They must be wising up."_

"_You're right Harry! They're onto us!" _Gasped Arcueid, disappointed that she wouldn't be able to participate in an exciting event like the circus. It sounded like a lot of fun, and if there was one thing Arcueid loved, it was fun.

"I need to mix things up a little." A change would be good, the Organisation (As he was now calling them) was clearly closing in on him! Perhaps he should get the authorities involved then? That way he could legitimately change his life for the best, since Harry knew that his treatment at home was probably not normal, when compared to what he heard of classmates in passing and to the home life of both Shiki and Shirou. Perhaps a foster family would be better than living with the Dursleys? No perhaps about it, life _would _be better in a care home than with the Dursleys.

"_Hell yeah! Lets call the authorities, the Allies of Justice of the real world!"_

"_Shirou, you're having delusions of grandeur again, aren't you?" _Shiki could only sigh at his friends antics. As main characters, they had to stick together against the increasing number of Heroines surrounding them. Even so, Shirou had Super Sentai/Batman delusions far too often for Shiki's liking.

"_A guy can dream! A guy can dream of guarding the city of Gotham, or driving around on a motorcycle, fighting crime and saving the world... just not while playing card games!"_

"_Silence mongrels!" _Looking inwards, Harry could picture Gilgamesh materialising his Noble Phantasm; Gates of Babylon. Swords, axes and other magical artefacts began to emerge from the crimson depths, ready to impale the fools thinking of just turning over their problems to the proper authorities. _"What sort of fools hand off their problems to other people? MONGRELS! That's who! A King solves his own problems, and as my Choreboy you MUST handle your own issues!"_

"_Shut up you egoistic bastard! Why, if Archer was here..." _Rin trailed off, leaving the treat unsaid but implied. She sometimes wished Harry was cynical enough for Counter Guardian Emiya to develop, so that she would have a practical and agreeable ally inside the democracy of Harry James Potter's head, instead of having a pompous prick represent the 'dark side' of Harry's personality.

"_HA! Like that Faker could defeat me! Even if he could, he isn't here!"_

"_But I am!" _Shirou prepared to declare internal war on his long standing foe. _"Trace... On!"_

"_SHUT UP BEFORE I THROW THE MOON AT YOU!" _The screeching declaration of the strongest persona in Harry's head rang out. Alas, while Arcueid was agreeable most of the time, if she wanted something, she got it. The ability to send the moon out of orbit does that to some people, it makes them more agreeable.

"Regardless, I'm going to the police with this! Let _them _do something for a change!" With the argument settled thanks to a liberal amount of violence, Harry approached the small building where the Little Whinging Police Department was held. Time for his life to change, once more, or the best! After taking a deep breath, Harry walked into the Police Station.

"CURSE THE ROOT!" Swearing by the only God like deity he approved of, Harry decided to throw in the towel, considering the fact that _that _attempt had failed too. Yet again, Harry found himself back inside his relatives house. The orphan asked Dudley for the date. It was the 22nd. Apparently the Police required three days to sort thing out. Heck, the whole process was so troubling for the Organisation that Harry was tempted to go out and bother them again, if not for two things.

Firstly, Harry came to this time with a slip of paper in his pocket, stating **'Seriously, stop it.'**. Harry didn't really feel like making the Organisation get serious, and any further action on his own end would only irritate them further, make his own studies decelerate, and waste more of his time.

The second thing, was that enough of the Police incident had been lodged into his Aunt and Uncles mind, even with memory erasure, for the couple to realise that if any police came-a-calling then a child living in a cupboard probably wouldn't do them any favours. Harry ended up getting Dudleys second bedroom.

That was good enough for Harry. Again, his own actions had improved his life yet again, just like the fight with Dudley had done. The nine year old was content to simply have a proper bed to sleep in. The fact that Dudley's old computer was stored in his new 'room' and that the spoiled lad never used it any more was just an added bonus, the icing to Harry's cake!

XXXXXXXXXX

Every Sunday the Dursleys would normally visit the same supermarket to purchase nearly the same goods every week, with no exceptions, save for holidays or special occasions. This periodical trip to the shops was simply one more sign to Vernon Dursley proving his families normality, so had to occur as regularly as clockwork, else his family (i.e Harry) incur his wrath. Not that the man ordinarily accompanied his wife and children to the shops, more often than not he was busy attending social events with clients or workmates, or went to the pub to watch the occasional sporting match. Likewise, Dudley normally escaped this duty by using his friends, or through scrunching up his pig like face and sniffling to his mother so that she would allow him to stay home. Because of this, Harry and his aunt were normally left to it; Petunia to drive the car and boss her young charge around, and Harry to push the trolley and collect the needed goods.

This was one of the few times Harry was left alone with his aunt. Harry didn't mind this much. The trip was an easy way for him to catch a glimpse or two of the more hidden aspects of his guardians personality, beyond the regular 'you're a freak, now make me a sandwich' mind frame. Harry was actually surprised to see that deep down his aunt was a human being like any other, not a heartless monster but a middle aged woman with real fears and real worries, no matter how much they were normally masked by her cold indifference.

This didn't change anything between the two of them. Harry still hated her and all that she represented, alongside her husband and their child. Even through hate though, understanding can be gleamed. One might hate Hitler, for example, but be able to see why the bastard did what he did, what his motivations were. This understanding may not change your opinion of the dictator, but it proves that he was a human like any other, albeit a terrible human that did terrible things, but a human never the less. Harry's thoughts of Petunia were like this. He respected her as a person and understood that perhaps there was more going on beneath the surface concerning her irrational hatred of him and all things 'unnatural' and 'freak like', but still didn't like the woman.

During one of these trips to Tesco, Harry accidentally crashed his trolley into someone else's, sending the pusher to the floor, his trolley flying into the nearby shelf. Several tins of Heinz Tomato soup and assorted cans rolled away from the cringing form of the boy.

"Sorry!" Harry ran over to the man lying on the floor, and prodded him several times. "Hey Mr, are you all right?"

"What have you done this time!?" Screeched Petunia, hurrying over to Harry to pinch one of his ears tightly, before looking down upon the tiny man who was only just climbing to his feet, rubbing his head thoroughly through his large, purple top hat. "Apologise to that poor man! Why, you are _so _going to your room without supper for a week!"

"No, no madam! I am perfectly fine! I just hit my head is all, no need to panic." Claimed the gentleman in the top hat as he scanned the floor around him, noticing all the misplaced cans. "Why, we'd better pick these cans up before someone trips!" Harry dropped down to his knees to help collect the cans and began to stack them onto the nearby shelf, alongside the diminutive man. "I'd hate for someone to pay a trip to St Mungo, or one of the Muggle equivalents, of course!" Petunia was to busy trying to save face to care what the man was even saying, if she had been paying attention the last sentence would have never slipped past her notice.

"I must apologise for my clumsy nephew, he has little hand eye coordination! You mustn't worry though, Harry will be punished when we return home."

"Hang on a second," He turned to the boy assisting him. "did you just say Harry?"

"That _is _my name, Harry Potter." Shrugged the nine year old in response, continuing his task with vigour so that he could continue shopping as soon as possible, then return to his room to continue playing the Kohaku route on Dudleys old computer.

"Merlin's beard!" He exclaimed, dropping his cans like a womaniser might drop a woman. "Its Harry Potter!" 

"Do I know you... or better yet, do you know me?"

"Well _everyone _knows about Harry Potter! Everyone who's important, of course! Why it is an honour!" Promptly, the top hat was removed as the mysterious fellow gave the orphan a deep bow. "Its such an honour!" He repeated.

"What do you mean?" Harry discarded his own Baked Beans to give him his full, undivided attention, rapid firing inquisitive questions at the man. "How is it an honour? Why do you know me? _How _do you know me?"

"Oh no, I've said too much! Dumbledore demanded that we keep our distance form you, our meeting was purely by chance!"

"AHA!" The metaphorical light-bulb flashed. "You're part of those damned men in black aren't you? Heck, I bet Dumbledore's the leader of the mysterious organisation you belong to and all!" 

"Just what are you two on about?" Petunia paled, realising the name that was just being discussed. "Did you just say-?"

"No, no, no, no!" He backed away from Petunia and Harry, accidentally knocking off some of the cans he had just re-shelved. "I really should stop talking to you now, Dumbledore _reeaaaalllly _wouldn't like it!" 

"Just who the Root is Dumbldore?"

"NO ONE IMPORTANT!" Mysteriously, he turned around in a mysterious fashion, abandoning his shopping in favour of getting the hell out of Dodge. "Goodbye Mr Potter!"

"Just wait a damned minute!" This was a lead, the boy just knew it! This Dumbledore fellow sounded vaguely evil and manipulative enough to have potentially been the guy in charge of the mysterious Organisation responsible for foiling all of his schemes for escaping the Durselys! Heck, if he was lucky he could potentially pin all of his life's woes and worries upon this scapegoat, then spend several years practising a long and complex revenge scheme to get back at this 'Dumbledore' bloke!

Immediately, the Magic in Harry's Magical Core responded to his will, performing Reinforcement upon his body, flooding its power throughout his bones, muscles and tissue, finding gaps which could be filled with its own power, then pumping it through them. 

"Get back here!" Petunia tried to follow her unwillingly adopted nephew as he sped away from her, but was unable to keep up. As such, Petunia instead returned to the trolley, content to plot and plan a punishment for Lily's child, for daring to disobey her.

At his Inner Voices encouragement (Particularly Rin, whom demanded the information she and Harry had long been working without), the Magic user tailed after the minuscule figure that had caught his interests. Barely a metre was between them as he spun out of the shop. Less than that as they left the parking lot. Centimetres remained when the man turned into an empty alleyway. Finally, with a desperate lunge forwards, Harry snagged the man's ornate coat sleeve, much to the captives horror when he noticed, particularly since he was unable to cancel the action he had just started seconds before he was caught.

CRACK! The world seemed to distort, blackness invaded Harry's vision, filling his throat with bile and his stomach with acid. He had the distinct feeling of being pressed through a small envelope, while his left hand burned with a nerve wrenching pain to equal the oddity of his present situation. Then after what could be days or seconds, the man and his unwilling passenger found themselves back within the regular plane of reality, safe and sound, although the pain in Harry's hand continued to burn.

"What... just... happened?" Questioned Harry as he staggered away from the man, looking over his surroundings as he did so. He was now in a large, fenced off field, inhabited by sheep, chickens, a few odd ducks near a small pond and the fresh scent of grass layered with dirt. An averaged sized farm house could be seen at the far edge of the grassy plain, though no one seemed to be in.

"Harry... you just did a very foolish thing." Harry had only seen the short man either extremely happy and joyous, or worried and frantic. Now, he was absolutely serious, looking at the tag along with a clear message in his eyes, 'you shouldn't have done this. No, you shouldn't'. "You just Side Apparated several miles to my country estate, and was even Spliced for your troubles!" At this he pointed at Harry's hand, where three of his fingers were missing their nails. "That was very, very foolish! Like, going camping and using a LETHIFOLD as a blanket foolish! Didn't your Muggle relatives ever warn you about the risks of Apparation?"

"No, I don't even know what the hell 'Apparation' is!" Retorted Harry with a scowl. "Also, what the hell is a Muggle?"

"Didn't they tell you _anything_? What about your parents, He Who Must Not Be Named, the War? I know Dumbledore said you were to be raised by Muggles, but THIS?"

"Again with this Dumbledore bloke!" Harry complained, feeling that the man in question was at the heart of whatever conspiracy he was caught up in.

"Don't insult Albus Dumbledore! He is a great man!"

"But who is he? And what are all these terms you keep using!"

"I shouldn't really tell you anything, you're aunt should be able to explain." He brushed the issue aside.

"No she can't! She does all she can to stomp out my Magicraft! No ones told me anything about Magic, anything I know or can do has been obtained after lots of independent investigation and deliberation damn it!"

At this point, the older gentleman had to think things over for a bit. Clearly James and Lily's son had been told nothing, which Dumbledore had assured him should not have happened. He should have been kept away from the fame and spotlight of being responsible for killing You Know Who, but should not have been ignorant of Wizarding culture in general. Admittedly, Dumbledore specifically told him not to contact the boy as he grew up. Diggle trusted Dumbledore explicitly, but perhaps he could give the boy a hint or two to make things easier later on. Surely the leader of the Light wouldn't begrudge him doing that! "Look, the names Dedalus Diggle. I can't tell you much, but I'll tell you a thing or two before I Apparate you back."

"Right, Diggle." Harry rolled this odd name over in his mouth, thinking of what to ask. There was so much that needed to be answered, and apparently so little time. Eventually, the emerald eyed lad figured out which of his issues should be addressed first. "So there is definitely others who can use Magic?" A nod. "There's a shady organisation to protect Magic's existence no doubt?" Another shaky nod followed. "Well that explains the whole mind wipe fiasco."

"Did you just say 'mind wipe'?"

"Yeah, I kept trying to leave the Durselys, only to find myself back with them with a week full of missing memories between my escape and my return."

"No... Dumbldore wouldn't Obliviate you... would he?" Diggle didn't know. For years now Diggle had been loyal to the elderly Headmaster, even serving with him during the Wizarding War as a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Even so, Dumbledore was notorious for doing that which needs to be done. So perhaps the man would manipulate the memories of a young, confused boy? Diggle didn't know. He'd have to get an explanation next time they met.

"Multiple times might I add. Hmmmm... Obliviation... so that's what they call it. Next issue; why do you know me?"

"I can't tell you that! Dumbldore would kill me!" 

"Speaking of which, who is he?"

"I can't tell you!"

"Some lot of good your answers are." Huffed Harry. So far he had learnt nearly nothing at all. All he had was a name and a general confirmation that the Men in Black really existed.

"Fine." Diggle sighed. A little info couldn't hurt, could it? "Let's just say that Dumbledore will play a large role in your future, you'll certainly meet him at some point. There's a school, you see. For Witches and Wizards. Expect a letter just before you start your Secondary education, on July the 24th. Yes, that's normally when McGonagall sends out the introductory letters."

"So what, you think I should sit back and do nothing until this Dumbeldore chap is generous enough to tell me everything? That sucks though!"

Diggle approached the boy briskly and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Yes. It does. Then again, so does life. Now I really can't say anything else." CRACK! Again Harry felt himself slotting through an impossible envelope sized gap in existence, followed by dazzling sickness and a sudden materialisation.

"Seriously, you're going to have to teach me how to do that." Harry grinned, teleportation was a cool concept. He wondered if he could figure the trick out on his own using only his incomplete form of untrained Magic, then though otherwise, upon glancing at one of his missing fingernails. He would hate to have a greater accident than that... take losing an arm in transition for one thing. If he was to replicate this technique, he'd have to apply it to things other than himself first.

"Taught in the sixth year." Diggle informed him. "Now I recommend you don't try to do it on your own, for the obvious reasons."

"I figured. Three finger nails were enough for me to learn that lesson, thanks."

"Quite." Diggle seemed to ponder something for awhile, before deciding to go through with whatever he was deciding to do. "Here," The Wizard explored his inner coat pockets, before pulling out a short piece of cardboard and handing it to Harry. "this is my address. In the future you might get into trouble, and I sort of owe you something for holding back so much information, so feel free to send me a letter if and _only if _you are in desperate trouble. I'll ignore any mail with questions, obviously."

"Thanks, I guess." Harry took the card, memorising the address as he did so.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Harry Potter. Goodbye!" With another large CRACK, Diggle disappeared before Harry could say ask anything else, leaving the boy alone, feeling slightly less confused than he had before his escapade had began.

XXXXXXXXXX

Seasons changed and Harry grew older. Now at the age of ten, the boy had successfully finished all the routes for both of his video games, most multiple times, and was glad that he had. **'Tsukihime'** and **'Fate/Stay Night' **saved him when he was younger. They gave him motivation and a goal to accomplish, as well as providing him with role models to look up to and others to sympathise with. From Shirou's twisted desire to be a hero, to Ciel's wish to die, Harry listened to all their tales, and had taken in all sorts of life lessons from them. So it wasn't an exaggeration to say that those games had saved him. It was merely a fact that they had.

Harry was... content. Yes, content. That was the closest he could of as to what the mixture of melancholy and peace was. Content. There were no new routes to read, but Harry was fine to go back and reread old ones. The boy's magical progress had only sped up after his encounter with Diggle; with minor breakthroughs in Teleportation (Harry had made sure to practise on other things, not himself) and Elemental Manipulation (As seen in the Aunt Marge burnt dress fiasco) being discovered. School was fine. While he had no real friends, no one was particularly vile to him either, and he was consistently in the top five places in the class for all subjects (Much to his families irritation). Home was bearable, if anything. Harry and his family still didn't get along, but after Harry 'accidentally' set his Aunt Marge's dress on fire, when she had visited for Dudley's tenth birthday, and had told his Aunt that he knew about Magic's existence, they had been quite willing to leave him alone. So yes, Harry was content.

There was just over half a year left until that fateful day would arrive for the emerald eyed boy, that July the twenty fourth when a certain letter would be received.

Harry was content, practically happy. He knew such a feeling couldn't last forever. Like Diggle said; life sucks.

"No. NO! What the hell have you done!?" Harry nearly wailed at the sight before him. It was one nearly incomprehensible for the boy. Following Christmas, Dudley had seemed to be rather grumpy and irritable, with no amount of playing with his new and undeserved presents improving his mood. Harry hadn't cared. He had been to busy puzzling over both his and his cousin's holiday homework, as well as replaying the Sakura route to bother. Maybe if he had realised his cousin's nasty mood, the present situation could have been avoided. Maybe Harry's good mood would have lasted.

"What the hell have you done!?" He repeated, literally unable to take in what his eyes were showing him. Two very special disks of his, shattered and cracked, broken beyond any amount of repairable value.

"Something I should have done a long time ago." Dudley grinned, he meant his words. For years now he had sat back and left that freak alone, content to pick on others in the class, so as to avoid another beating like the one his cousin had once given him. That had happened years ago, and he was jealous of just how happy Harry seemed to be. Why couldn't he be that happy? Harry should have been miserable, he'd been given no presents and wasn't allowed out of his own room to play in the snow! Surely he should have been lonely and bitter, not smiling and cheerful? Dudley's friends had all gone on holiday for the duration of the break from school: Piers to Majorca, Dennis and Gordon had gone camping, while Malcolm was visiting relatives in Scotland. Dudley had no one to play with, so felt like he was truly suffering a terrible fate.

Seeing Harry happy made him angry. _Very _angry. Dudley had decided that it was time to put that freak back in his place, that it was time to show him who was boss! Dudley had remembered that when his gang had cornered him that one time, Harry had been protective of that envelope with a disk in it. What was it called again? Knighted Fate... or something? It didn't matter anyway.

When his mother demanded Harry go out and work in the frosty back garden the day before, to keep him out the way while his father hosted a Christmas meal with some work colleagues, the pig like boy had barged into the freaks room and scanned it from top to bottom, to find that weird disk. Eventually, Dudley had found an envelope inside a large dictionary. The envelope contained the game he was looking for, as well as another one with an odd name.

Dudley then replaced the envelope with an identical one from down stairs, and took his spoils of war back to his lair.

The next day, Dudley took the contents of the envelope out to the local playground and smashed them with an abandoned brick. Following this, the boy had insisted that his cousin accompany him somewhere to 'look at something interesting'. Harry had obliged him since he had nothing else to do, and because he was in a good mood. This led to the sight that Harry despaired so over; his life's single, major happiness destroyed. Ruined. Broken. Unfixable.

"What the HELL have you done!?" In denial, Harry rushed down to his copy of **'Tsukihime' **and **'Fate/Stay Night'**, then carefully cradled all the individual pieces to his chest. They were sharp. Bloody cuts opened all across Harry's arms and chest. He ignored them, picking up the few fragments he had initially missed.

"Hahaha ha!" Laughed Dudley. "Aren't you miserable, freak? Look at those rubbish things. I broke them. They're in pieces! Cracked! Useless! Why the hell didn't I do this years ago? You aren't so hard. Look at you, you're sobbing like a baby! I only wish Piers and the others were here to see this!"

"Do you think this is funny?"

"What?"

"I said, do you THINK THIS IS FUNNY!" He sniffled as tears dropped to the cold ground and froze, snot ran from his nose down to his chin. Harry hadn't cried since he had read the bitter-sweet ending to the Sakura route. He wasn't going to be able to read it, or any of the other routes, ever again. He just knew it.

"Yeah, I do. Its hilarious!"

"Why? WHY! WHY DID YOU DO IT!? I LOVED THOSE GAMES! I PLAYED THEM AND I PLAYED THEM AND I BLOODY _LOVED _THEM! Those were a gift from that teacher I once met. He GAVE them to me! These were the best gifts I ever received, they saw me through the good times and the bad times, they showed me miracles and damnations, they taught me so many things, lessons, motivations, glimpses of possibilities! There were PEOPLE in those games, people I loved and befriended! People I admired and hated! PEOPLE THAT LIVED AND DIED! AND YOU KILLED THEM!" By now Harry was pounding his bloody fists on the ground, taking out his sorrow on the cold ground around him. The fragments were all piled into the envelope Dudley had discarded at the edge of the playground.

Sorrow soon turned to anger, then to hate. "A whole world shattered in a _single _selfish moment! What do you FEEL Dudley? Are you happy now? Is your life significantly better because you stole the SINGLE piece of happiness in my life away from me? Whatever you've gained from this, I hope it was worth it. Because you KILLED Shirou and Rin and Saber and Sakura! You KILLED Shiki and Arcueid, Ciel, Akiha, Hisui and Kohaku! THEY'RE ALL DEAD NOW! All their worries! All their pains and all their happiness! All gone now. Dead. I'll never hear any of their stories ever again, their tale will remain untold. ALL BECAUSE YOU KILLED THEM! SO ARE YOU FUCKING HAPPY?!" Hot rage spilled forth from Harry, the ground around him actually cracked. The amount of Magic he was releasing was so potent that even Dudley knew that he had probably gone too far.

Dudley didn't care though. Now Harry was miserable, just like he was! All his friends had gone on holiday, leaving him alone. Well now someone else was as miserable as he was! "It was just a game! Chill out! Just go out and get a job, then buy another one or something. Its just a game!"

"IT WASN'T JUST A GAME! NOT TO ME! IF I BOUGHT ANOTHER COPY, THEN IT WOULDN'T BE THE SAME!"

"I DON'T CARE!" Snapped Dudley suicidally. "I don't care about all those stupid characters you mentioned! They. Are not. Real! You hear me? NOT REAL!"

"THEY WERE REAL TO ME... AND YOU _KILLED THEM_!" Harry directed the full front of his sorrow and hate towards the person that had caused it. Deep inside, Harry's Magical Core began to fluctuate, sending multiple tendrils of Magic out, saturated with so much of Harry's total Magical energy that they actually became visible, causing Dudley's eyes to widen in disbelief at the writhing constructions.

Dudley was worried now. He'd pushed to far and now his favourite target had snapped, resulting in events he had clearly not foreseen. Events such as weird, freakish tentacle things. "YOU FREAK!" He snapped at the boy. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" He turned run, but one of the tendrils used the Magic it consisted of to wrap itself around the boys ankle. He tripped, letting loose a yell.

"I swear to the ROOT that I'll kill you!" Cried the boy. Only one thought was running through Harry's mind, the desire to hurt his cousin, to inflict as much pain as he himself had been forced to feel upon seeing his one treasure smashed on the floor.

As such, Harry hurt him. Keeping the tendrils active was immensely tiring and costly, so he dispelled them. (Not even knowing how he had managed to make his invisible tendrils visible and physical in the first place) Instead, Harry punched Dudley in the face, again and again.

"NO! STOP!" Harry ignored the boy, and punched him again!

"_Harry, this isn't right! Stop this now! He's wronged you, but beating him up won't improve matters!"_ Harry ignored the voice of Shirou, too gripped by his emotions to heed the warnings of the boy who wanted to be a Hero of Justice.

"_My Paige! Stop this now! A King must forever be in control of his emotions and actions! Think of us, is this what a Knight would do?" _Harry didn't care what a Knight would do. All he wished for at the moment was that he had a Knights sword, not a Knights morals. He didn't know if he'd use that blade or not, if he had one.

"HARRY, STOP! I'M SORRY!" Bones broke under Harry's reinforced fists. His nose, three teeth, his jaw, his wrist. Harry was sure that he could punch through steel if he put his mind to it.

"_Ha! Go on, my Choreboy!" _Encouraged Gilgamesh._"You want this, you know you do! So take it, take your vengeance! He took your treasure, so take his health! Brake his bones. Crack the mongrels limbs! Shatter his legs so that he'll never walk again! DO IT! You know you want him to feel your pain, the pain of losing something permanent!" _

Harry listened to Gilgamesh. He wanted this. Harry wanted Dudley to know the consequences of doing what he had done, what destroying the single thing he loved would lead to.

"_Harry! Think for a moment, you idiot! Beating up this idiot won't change things! You're games will still be gone!" _Implored Rin frantically.

"BECAUSE HE _BROKE THEM_!" Another fingerbone broke under Harry's assault.

"_Harry, this isn't fun! Stop!"_

"_You don't want this!"  
_

"_A hero wouldn't do this!"_

"_Don't do something you'll later regret!" _Harry ignored them all, they were only voices in the back of his head that he had created to keep himself company. They were illusions, copies fashioned after the ones they were based on. They weren't the real Shirou, Rin, Saber and Arcueid. Nothing but shallow impersonations. The real ones were in those disks, and they were broken. Dudley broke them!

Eventually, just one voice had something left to say. Shiki. _"Think carefully, Harry. Some things can never be taken back, no matter what you do. One must fight, sometimes even kill, during their lifetimes, but only for the right reason. So by all rights, continue punishing him. He did you wrong, so if you believe the cause is good enough, keep fighting. Just understand the consequences of your actions. If you continue, Dudley might die. Can you live with that? Death is permanent, unchanging,irreversible, you can't take it back. Can you live with taking that brat's life, no matter how pathetic it might be? So think. The choice is up to you."_

That brought Harry back to his senses. For Roots sake, he was practically killing a guy! Someone of his own age and his own blood no less! Harry staggered away, panting, looking at his own bloody hands, still cut from the fragments of his disks. They were better off than Dudley was. Harry had really done a number on him with his Reinforced fists, leaving him with all sorts of injuries to remember his folly, with the broken leg, wrists, fingers, nose and jaw being the most prominent. He was alive though! Harry had stopped before things had got to serious, Dudley would live!

He'd be in hospital for awhile though, and it would probably take months for all of his injuries to finish healing. Scars would remain, Dudley would more than likely never be as physically strong as he had once been, and would most likely be confined to a wheelchair for a few months.

Harry was sickened. "What the Root have I done?" Harry hadn't wanted this! He had wanted Dudley to suffer for what he did, to make him feel the pain he had, to convey his anger. But this? No, Harry didn't want to go this far. This wasn't a justified fight against the odds to reclaim a treasured belonging. This wasn't a fight fought for the sake of another. This wasn't just. No, this was revenge, a one sided beat down. He had sunk to Dudley's level, to below it. He had taken out his anger on a spoiled, conceited boy that didn't know any better! Harry did though. He should have been the bigger man. He should have stopped himself. "I didn't want this!"

"_But you did, Choreboy." _Harry could imagine Gilgamesh grinning, clapping slowly and methodically. _"You did want this. You wanted him to suffer, so he did! You desired it, so made it so! Just like what a King would do! It took you a while, but you've finally given in! A true King is selfish, taking what he wants, when he wants. That's what you've done! The mongrel has been deserving this for a while, you just paid him back for wronging you."  
_

Harry ran away from the crime scene, stopping briefly to collect the envelope containing the shattered remains. "I didn't want this! You tricked me!"

"_I did nothing of the sort. I advised you to do this, no more, no less. I could only show you the path, you walked down it."  
_

"NO! NO, NO!" Harry stopped running, falling to his knees, unwilling to accept that he had been the one to take out his anger on Dudley. "I admire Shirou, not you! I want to be a hero, not this!"

"_I warned you." _Said Shiki. _"I warned you. I told you that there were consequences. Luckily, you stopped before you killed him."_

"I'm... sorry."

"_You once wondered many years ago, if you would turn out like me, if you would ever do such horrible things as cut an innocent woman into seventeen pieces. Now you have your answer. This wasn't quite cutting a girl into seventeen pieces, but you're getting there. You have the potential to do bad things."  
_

"I'm sorry, I don't want to be a bad guy!" That was true. Harry didn't want to be a villain, he wanted to be a hero like Shirou, or a smart Magus like Rin. He didn't want to be a Kotomine! He wanted to go back to when he was happy, to when he was content, to before he had beaten his own cousin halfway to death. He didn't want to accept that he was capable of such a thing, he wanted to return to blissful ignorance.

"_Then repent." _Stated Shirou softly. _"What's past is past. You cannot redo it, nor go back to it. You live on, so all you can do is look forwards, towards the stars you cannot reach and the wishes that will not be granted."_

"But... how?"

"_Accept it." _Stated Shiki sadly. _"Inside, all humans are monsters. We all have the potential to do bad things, but some more so than others. Learn from this, accept that you have a darkness inside you. Then tame that darkness and never let it control you! Understand that you have wronged by harming your cousin, and learn from it! Never let your feelings control you like that again, for all life is sacred, so all are valuable."_

"_But how do I know if I'm doing the right thing? Beating up Dudley seemed like a good idea at the time, so how do I know if I'm acting like a hero... or a villain."_

"_If you walk down the path that you believe is right, you cannot be wrong." _Shirou's voice rung out throughout Harry's mindscape, quoting what his counterpart inside the game had once said. If one believes that their actions are the correct ones, then you're always in the right, you're always making the correct choice.

"_Strive for that ever distant utopia that you believe is right, my Paige. Like Shiroo said, so long as you forever fight for what you _believe _is right, then you're always a hero!" _Saber agreed, adding her input to the conversation.

"_As much as I hate to agree, a King may only do what he believes is the right thing. Such a creed, even one like you might follow._

"_Take responsibility." _Glared Rin. _"You're only human, do what you can. If you make mistakes, what of it? Everyone else does, you're not perfect. No one is."_

"You're right... you're all right." Sighed Harry. Yes, he was only human and all he could do was what he believes is to be the right thing. All he had to do was reign in his temper, his darkness, and never let it control him again. All the while, Harry knew he would mourn for that wonderful world that he lived in and loved for years.

XXXXXXXXXX

Harry used a public payphone and called for an ambulance for Dudley, then turned himself in. He was given a mark on his Police record and was turned over to his aunt and uncle for further punishment, which he later received. After two weeks, Dudley came out of hospital, in a wheelchair, and tried to avoid Harry, with good reason. Eventually Harry found him alone, then apologised to him. Dudley was surprised and shocked, he would probably thrown the apology back at Harry in disgust, but wasn't suicidal enough to do so after what happened the last time he had pissed the boy off, so instead shrugged, and wheeled away.

Harry never did receive an apology for his broken games and his broken heart. He didn't want them, such things from Dudley would be meaningless and would not change what had happened. He had to look to the future, not the past. Towards the July the twenty fourth that he was looking forwards to.

When Harry was finally allowed outside the house again, on a cold morning in March, the boy took an old shoebox filled with the wrecked remains of **'Tsukihime' **and **'Fate/Stay Night' **to the playground they were broken in, alongside a small, plastic spade, liberated from the shed earlier on. Harry felt it was fitting for two games filled with such conflict and battle to be buried in the battlefield they were killed on.

The ten year old found a section of grass that was isolated from the rest of the playground, and that was soft enough to dig into, then began to shovel, relishing in the effort of digging a small, dirty hole, just large enough for the box to be buried in.

Harry sat in silence for awhile, thinking of all the good times he had experienced with those two games, the inanimate objects that had saved his childhood. He reminisced of all the funny moments shared with Taiga, of all the calm interludes provided at Shiki's school. Harry gave mention to all the battles that had been fought, all the hardships the protagonists had been forced to endure to get the true, final endings. Every Bad End was noted and relived, every little Tiger Dojo resulted in a small smile gracing Harry's lips. Heck, Harry thought of the stupid moments, such as when Shirou said 'people die when they are killed'. All the heroines were given their credit, of course. From the prime heroines like Arcueid and Saber, to the small ones everyone forgets about, like Hisui and Sakura. The boy savoured the memory of all their best moments, it was the least he could do for them. Hell, Harry even blushed and thought of 'those scenes' that he had eventually built up the courage to read and later shove into the box of memories labelled 'childhood suppressed memories'.

All these little things that made up the Nasuverse, Harry loved them with all his heart.

Harry set the box into the hole, then buried it, covering the worn Nike box with cold, wet dirt. "I'll remember you." He told the grave while fiddling with the home made pendant hanging round his own neck, which was nothing but a piece of string threaded through holes in two fragments of disk, one from each game. "I'll remember you for the good things, and the bad ones. I won't go out and try to replace you with another copy. No, that would be wrong. Wrong and disrespectful. You were my world and you died, nothing will bring you back. If I somehow found another copy of **'Tsukihime' **or **'Fate/Stay Night' **and played them, I would just be looking through the Kaleidoscope at another persons world. Not mine. The tales I would hear wouldn't be any or yours."

Harry smiled though, it wasn't the end though. He lived on. He would remember that dark and gruesome world forged by Kinoko Nasu. He would carry that place inside his heart forever.

"_Don't worry. We're here for you." _Spoke Arcueid sadly, if not understanding then at least sympathising with Harry's loss.

"Yes. I'm not alone. Those voices in the back of my head, they may not be real, but I'll treat them like they are. Out of respect for you, Nasu." Harry stood up and gazed towards the morning sunlight, as the sun rose consistently and vibrantly, blessing the world, saying that its not over yet. "I'll carry on, I'll carry their wishes as my own. To me, Rin will always be dead. As such, I'll learn as much Magic as I can, in her place. Surely the Root must exist in some form, so I'll find it for her. I'll carry her burden as a Magus."

The Magic user remembered the dream that in game Emiya Shirou had once fostered; the impossible desire to be a Hero, with all that it entails, as well as the betrayal of ideals shown by him in Heavens Feel. "I'll carry your ideals as well, Shirou. While I can't say that I'll be a hero, or that I'll spend the rest of my life aspiring to save others, I'll still help people when and where I can, you can count on that much. As you say, 'The thought of wanting to help others definitely isn't wrong', so if the chance appears for me to help people, I'll help them. If I ever have to be a hero, I'll do it without regret. And if I ever fall in love, I'll be their superhero, just like you were for Sakura."

As for Saber, his unofficial favourite heroine, there wasn't much to say. "I have no duty to carry out to the end, not like you. I doubt I'll ever need to emulate you, I'm no King. But I'll listen to you, to the truths you told Shirou and the no nonsense that the you in the back of my head will undoubtedly tell me."

Next, Shiki Tohno. "Shiki, you were my first hero, even before Shirou. But you're still human, and you've taught me so much... and I'm sure the aspect of you living in my head will teach me much more in time. You showed me that life isn't shown in blacks or whites, but in greys. So I'll live on, like you told me to, since 'Just living is enough' in your words."

The son of James Potter thought back to all the times he had read about Arcuied and the vampires, how she was the pinnacle of power for him, an unstoppable force of nature... and also, a klutz. "As for you Arcueid... what can I say? Let's just say that I'll have a lot of fun in your place, okay?"

While he was at it, he might as well mention Gilgasmesh as well, since he was apparently important enough to Harry's psyche to get a place as one of the voices in the back of his head. "Gilgamesh, oh Gilgamesh. I don't really like you, but I respect you. You won't be missed, and I don't think I'll enjoy you staying in my psyche, but I guess you're needed. Someone needs to be the voice of my selfishness after all. I think you can foot the bill."

So Harry stayed like that, standing over the makeshift grave as he watched the sun continue to rise, until it finally peaked at midday, enveloping the playground around him within a golden layer of warmth; cold, frosty grass began to thaw. Harry was done, he knew a chapter of his life was over. Soon he would have an adventure of his own to partake in, he needed to move on. "So goodbye and thank you, **'Tsukihime'**, **'Fate/Stay Night'**. Thank you... for everything."

XXXXXXXXXX

That was how Harry James Potter spent his childhood, immersed in the Nasuverse, surrounded by Dead Apostles and Servants, dreaming of impossible things. That was how life was like, up until the day that the Hogwarts Letter came for him.

**AN- Well here we are, the end of Harry's childhood. Bloody hell, I think this was literally the longest chapter I have ever written. Normally, I only peak at 10,000, but for this story I have decided that I'll do 'proper' sized chapters, like all the awesome authors do. **

**Either way, next chapter we have the Hogwarts letter, and other stuff. Please review and stuff, Undying Soul out.**


	2. First Enchantment

**First Enchantment**

**AN- Wow... I am really amazed at all the positive feedback I received last chapter, so thanks to everyone who followed, favourited or reviewed last chapter. Seriously, it was awesome to realise just how many reviews I got for just my first chapter! I hope this chapter matches your high expectations.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, only my plot and any OC's that may show up. You have to give Rowling and Nasu credit where its due; they have to own two of the most awesome series ever.**

In Vernon Dursleys opinion, all was right in the world. The birds weren't singing, politicians were still squabbling, Dudley was the prat he always was and was currently waiting impatiently at the small table in the centre of the room for his breakfast, his wife was hard at work and his nephew was in the only place he deserved to be; the kitchen. The drill salesman could say what he wanted about the brat, but he _did _make a mean omelette.

"Boy, when will the bacon be ready?" He asked stiffly as he scanned the paper like he always did, savouring the aura of normality that surrounded his home.

"Soon, keep your wig on." Harry began to whistle a dainty tune as he continued frying the bacon. While he wasn't exactly a master chef, he was good enough due to all the damn experience his relatives had forced upon him.

"Boy, you don't want to make me angry." Vernon flicked the page over and began ogling page three with a certain intent that his wife was somehow oblivious of while she died some of Dudley's old clothes grey, for Harry to wear when he would attend the local comprehensive school. Harry saw no need to correct her on the fact that he _wasn't _going to that school. It just gave her more work to do.

"Perhaps if you actually paid me for all this damned child labour I'd be more respectful."

"Seriously, watch your tone, brat."

"Sure thing boss." Harry gave a mock salute, that irritating grin still wedged onto his face, the grin that served specifically to piss his uncle off. Vernon nearly tore the fragile paper he was handling in half. Truly Harry's recent attitude left a lot to be desired, since it seemed like every single damned thing he had done these last few months was tailor made to piss him off. Whether he was cooking, cleaning, gardening or polishing, he did it all with a sarcastic retort and a cheerful grin.

If Vernon wasn't so preoccupied with work he would have curbed this dangerous attitude of his nephew years ago, it just wasn't normal! Vernon liked the ordinary, he desired plainness, he demanded normality. For years now Harry had practically been a reclusive shut in. Now he was a cheeky brat. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Vernon Dursey was nearly pulling his own hair out due to Harry's miraculous, overnight personality change.

"And wipe that grin off your face."

"Sure thing boss." Harry kept smiling, the tune he was whistling intensified in volume. Vernon was ready to chuck his mug at him, regardless of the cost of replacing a new one.

Harry had good reason to be cheerful over these last few months. While his disks may have been broken beyond any and all hopes of possible repair, Harry still had a single date to look forward to. July the 24th, the day that Diggle said that a certain letter would arrive to invite him to a certain school for Witches and Wizards. Yes, Harry was resolved to carry out all the goals and targets he had set for himself in his heroes place, after his games were destroyed. He had mourned them, but now he was willing to move on, so long as he received the chance to carry out all of his promises.

After all, Harry James Potter would never break any of the promises to his role models. To accomplish them, he needed to know Magic.

Finally, like a welcome breeze on a sunny day, the clanging of an envelope box alerted the denizens of Privet Drive that the mail had arrived. "Go get the post boy!"

"Sure." Harry shrugged, leaving the bacon to continue frying as he turned away to eagerly leave the room and collect the post. First things first though, he couldn't pass off the opportunity to piss off his uncle one last time. It was certainly amusing, why the hell had he been so scared of him again? Save for the whole 'cupboard under the stairs' and 'treating him like a slave thing' of course. "You know, I certainly don't deserve this treatment. Why, if only a school exited for freaks like me. I could go off and be with my own kind, living in my natural habitat, learning all sorts of tricks and mysteries to befuddle you with every summer. Wouldn't that be amazing?"

Vernon grunted, then lied through his teeth. "I guess. Then again, what're the blazing chances of somewhere like that being real?" Vernon actually knew that such a school did exist, from the tales of his wife. He simply did not wish to acknowledge its existence because in his eyes, if you never talk about something, it doesn't exist.

"Yeah... what are the chances?" Harry walked calmly to the kitchen door, then sprinted for the front door. With eager hands he picked up and discarded a post card from his Aunt Marge (Who was still refusing to visit the Dursely's after _that _incident), an envelope that suspiciously looked like a bill, and then he finally came across the letter he desired to see so much. The front was addressed to him.

**'Mr H Potter **

**The Smallest Bedroom**

**4 Privet Drive**

**Little Whinging**

**Surrey'**

Like a starving child being presented with a foot long sandwich, Harry tore into the recent delivery with vigour, until he unearthed two sheets of paper. He waved the envelope to ensure he missed nothing, then decided to read the letter quickly before his relatives caught on.

**'HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**

**(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)**

**Dear Mr Potter**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**

**Term begins on ****1 September****. We await your owl by no later than ****31 July****.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonogall**

**Deputy Headmistress'**

There was also a sheet of paper listing exactly what he would need for the upcoming school term. Harry skimmed it briefly and picked out the wand and the required pointed hat with interest. What sort of self respecting Magus (Or Wizard) would be caught dead wearing something like that? A pointed hat was hardly inconspicuous, it practically screamed 'Hey Roman Catholic Church, I'm a Wizard and I'm ready to be burnt at a stake! All inquisitors over to me!'.

Harry jogged upstairs into his room and tucked the list under his pillow, before he went back downstairs to the kitchen with his uncles mail and his own letter in turn.

WHAM! He slammed the small pile onto the table with an even wider grin garbed upon his bespectacled face. Vernon's eyebrow began to twitch, even before the emerald eyed boy currently dwelling in his abode began to talk. The proud Muggle just knew he was going to have to find a puppy and kick it by the end of the day.

"Hey, guess what uncle? It turns out there _is _a school for magical freaks to interact with one another in their natural environment! Can I go?" Vernon slammed his forehead into the table with utmost violence and aggression, leaving a slight indentation upon its surface and a red sheen on his own forehead. Who was he kidding? All was _not _right with the world.

XXXXXXXXXX

It took two days of alternating between bombarding his aunt with 'Please, please!'s, his uncle with 'let me go! Come on!'s and his cousin with threats to get him to try to persuade his parents (At the behest of Gilgamesh, whom Harry was probably listening a bit too much to). Finally, a sleep depraved Vernon decided to give into the demands of his nephew.

"FINE YOU DAMNED BRAT! GO TO YOUR POXY WIZARDING SCHOOL!" The man that normally wore his moustache with pride rather than with upper-lip-hair-pulling-out irritation consoled his mind with the fact that at least he wouldn't have to see the source of his hair loss problems for most of every year.

"Thanks uncle." Harry then returned to his own room to get some sleep in. It was certainly tiring to continually pester a middle aged man in the wee hours of the night. Harry felt that it was prudent not to mention that he was planning on attending Hogwarts regardless of his legal guardians decision anyway. He was sure that such a thing would at least protect his uncles few remaining hairs for awhile longer.

Even without consent, events were already in motion. The Magic user had already posted a letter in response to the invitation, one stating that he was happy to attend Hogwarts but required someone from within 'The Organization' to show him where to buy all the obscure things the school seemed to need, sent to the address provided by Diggle, with a second letter enclosed requesting for man that favoured top hats to send it on to the necessary receiver, since he clearly _did not _own an owl.

"_See, my Choreboy! I told you that stubbornly pestering that mongrel was beneficial and satisfying!" _Harry sighed at the voice of the Golden King, turning over in his bed as he struggled to nod off into the embrace of the Sandman. As much as Harry disliked it, that obnoxious person was influencing him much more than he expected. Inner Saber, Shirou and Rin were not impressed. In Harry's defence, Gilgamesh _was _a King... he was pretty damn persuasive when he wanted to be.

"_I guess. It was sort of painful seeing him pull that much hair out though!" _Harry complained with a slight frown. Harry wasn't a sadist. He didn't get pleasure form seeing his uncle tear his own hair out. There was a distinct line that he sometimes 'accidentally' crossed, but it was all accidental! Every bit of hair loss was completely unintended on his own part.

"_Haaarrry! Stop being mean to your uncle! Its not nice!" _Harry looked into his mindscape, a trick he had picked up form constantly talking to the six voices in the back of his head, and surveyed his surroundings (Which coincidentally looked like an odd blend of the Emiya estate and the Tohno's, featuring both Western and Eastern elements that seemed to seemingly blend together despite the surrealism of such a design. The world surrounding his little 'home' was a grand cityscape, with his estate sitting dead in the centre upon a large hill, while Fuyuki loomed to one side and Misaki the other), before he looked towards Shirou, who was crying a river of anime tears.

Harry admired Shirou like no one else, so he was rather disappointed that his role model acted like his idiotic Fate self instead of his badass UBW or HF incarnations. More often than not Shirou just seemed to be there just to complain about the more violent methods that the majority of his Inner voices advise.

"Persistence is a virtue." Quoted Saber sagely, while she stood to one side of the mass gathering in the garden of the estate. Shirou hung around near her, Rin besides him, while Shiki and Arcueid stood to the other side. Gilgamesh was alone, content in his arrogant isolation from the others. His head was held proudly high, so high he seemed to be looking down on everyone else in the mindscape. Harry couldn't bring himself to dislike the King. Gilgamesh had been giving out advice (More often than not useful advice, much to Saber's annoyance) for far too long for simple arrogance to cause Harry to hate him. "Even so," She continued. "at least you followed through on your choice of actions. You fought a battle of wills against your aunt and uncle, now your campaign has finished. You have obtained an honourable conclusion to your Hogwarts acceptance."

"Hmmm!" Rin huffed and spun on the back of her feet, turning her back on the Magic user. "It took you long enough, idiot!" By now Harry didn't mind the way Rin called him 'idiot', since it was a sign of endearment and affection rather than an insult... most of the time.

"It took so much effort though." Shiki sighed, placing his one free hand on his forehead. His other arm was currently nestled between Arcueid's strong arms, trapped within her diamond grip. "I mean, if we just waited instead then we could have gone to Hogwarts anyway since you already had plans to attend regardless of their acceptance."

"You have to admit it was fun though!" The True Ancestor giggled happily, flashing all the other occupants of Harry's mind with an honest smile.

"I suppose it was satisfying in a way." Admitted Rin with a nod of her head. Vindictive minx that she was, Rin's willingness to terrorise others and get her own back on those that had wronged her and her friends wasn't unexpected.

"But it was still unfair." The Ally of Justice puffed out his cheeks, still irritated that his advice to make peace with his relatives before he left had been dismissed.

"So?" Gil raised a golden eyebrow at the teen. "Life isn't fair. That mongrel has been unfair towards _my _Choreboy for the last ten years or so, isn't it fair that he's been getting his just desserts during these last few months? Be glad that my servant is too damned noble to take my poisoning advice."

"Well of course!" Saber offered a rare superior smirk. "Your influence on my young Paige is undeniable by now, but he is still fundamentally mine and Shirou's. He's a hero through and through, you shan't corrupt him! The desire to save others practically flows in veins!"

"Mou!" Arcueid stamped her feet in annoyance. "Can't we get this out of the way already? I want to go out and explore the city some more!"

"Haven't you seen enough by now Arc?" Shiki sighed unenthusiastically. That vampire sometimes seemed to be more trouble than she was worth.

"No. The streets are always changing out there, the city is different every day!"

"Regardless, I'll explore with you later." Offered Harry. Spending time in his mindscape for long periods of time tended to lull him off to sleep, so the boy had an entire night to explore the city with the others again. There was nowhere he'd rather be than with the figments of his imagination, that lived in his head.

"Before that though, I wish to say that I am proud of you." Saber looked her Paige dead in the eye and offered a rare smile. Nine times out of ten the King of Britain's face presented about as much emotion as a doll's would, so seeing the petite woman smile was infrequent. Harry liked her smile, it showed she was happy. Out of all of Nasu's heroines, Saber deserved that slice of contentedness the most, although Sakura came in a close second second place, in his opinion.

"I agree." Gilgamesh acknowledged his unwilling Choreboy for a few seconds, deciding that the boy who's mind he lived in had advanced enough to deserve a Kings recognition for a few seconds. "You have certainly come a long way from the bawling brat that you once were. I am proud to have you in my service." Gil upturned his nose, and looked away from Harry. There was no need to give him more than a few seconds, no use making the boy big headed by acting like he was _too _proud of him. "I still wish you had poisoned your family."

"Was never going to happen." Harry flat out rejected that idea.

"Still, even I must say that you aren't quite the idiot I said you were. Still an idiot... just less so. Your magical progress is pretty impressive, just keep up the good work." Rin tended to give out more insults than compliments, so the Magic user knew that she meant it.

"Enough of this serious stuff!" A speeding predator leapt, then with minimal ease it captured Harry in its unbreakable grasp. "Lets explore! Lets explore!" Arcueid leapt up and down with excitement, Harry trapped in one arm now, Shiki the other.

"Sure, I guess we can go now." Harry spent the rest of the night with his imaginary figments, exploring the world of his own creation, the reality closest to is Ideal. Once more all was right in the world. The son of Lily Potter was content once again.

XXXXXXXXXX

Diggle lived life comfortably. It was his lifestyle choice, it was his creed and his motto. 'Why live rich and miserably when you can be rich _and _happy?' It suited Diggle. His father had once run a prominent magical crafts industry based on buying or creating magical goods cheap, then selling them off for a quick buck to those who desperately needed them. In fact, that was where his name originated from; Daedalus, the Greek craftsman and inventor. It had been Giggola Diggle's greatest hope and ambition that Dedalus would share his love for craftsmanship and continue his business long after he himself passed on from the mortal coil known as life.

Unfortunately, Dedalus didn't live up to his namesake. Suffice to say, after Giggola was killed as a third party during a fight between a group of Death Eater's and some Auror's, Dedalus didn't continue the business. He sold it, then gave half of the large earnings to Dumbledore, to assist him in his War efforts, and kept the other half for himself.

Now, Diggle was able to enter an early retirement and live comfortably in his modest farmhouse, amongst the beautiful countryside areas of Southern Britain. It was inside this lovely house that he received a letter from Mr Potter, requesting him to pass on another letter to the necessary authorities. He read the second letter as well.

Harry wanted someone to assist him in collecting his school things.

Diggle would have loved to go out and accompany the boy, but unfortunately Dumbledore was still a little irritated with him for breaking his cover to the Boy Who Lived earlier on. No, he wouldn't be allowed. But even so, Diggle felt that he owed the boy something for not helping before when he was asked. After all the things Harry had unknowingly done for the Wizarding World, it was only fair that Diggle assisted him whenever possible.

Harry wanted an escort. Diggle would provide one then. Yes, Diggle would send a letter to McGonagall and ask her to accompany the confused boy. She sometimes helped Muggleborn's to collect their school goods anyway, so it would hardly be that much of a fuss for her to allow Harry to accompany her as well. With a choice of actions in mind, Diggle prepared to write a fresh notice for his target.

XXXXXXXXXX

Harry was incredibly nervous. It was understandable really. He was about to enter the Wizarding World for the first time, and from what Harry had learn about Magic users from the Nasuverse, they were all either arrogant nobles or inhuman bastards that would do acts of near Satanism if it would lead to Magical progress. Suffice to say, the Clock Tower was presented as a cut-throat, dog-eat-dog world, filled to the brim with both dangers and opportunities, for those that could find them. Harry was right to be not exactly eager to enter the lions den and plant his skull in the sleeping beasts open mouth.

Like Harry's initial attempts at dealing with Magicraft as if it was Magecraft, the boy with a scar upon his forehead thought that it would be prudent to treat the Wizarding World with as much caution as possible, until he himself had seen it for himself.

A week had passed since he had fist sent his letter to Diggle, when he had received a second letter addressed to him from Diggle. It was short and concise, telling him that a Witch would collect him from Kings Cross Station in a few days time and that he should be ready to meet her there by noon.

This led to Harry 'borrowing' some money from Dudley, since he had so much cash that he would probably not even notice that some of it was missing, and travelling by cab to the meeting place. From there he waited around impatiently, pacing around back and forth to pass the time. The boy was certain that he was as prepared as he physically could be and that he would be able to hopefully escape using self reinforcement if trouble arose from either uptight nobles or shifty men in black.

Harry had a sharp knife, that he had stolen from the kitchen draws and then reinforced afterwards to increase its sharpness and strength, hidden in his shoe. You know, just in case.

"Mr Potter." A stern voice drew Harry's attention. Spinning wildly, Harry struggled to not immediately go for the shoe, considering it would be very bad manners to throw a knife at someone in a crowded train station, just because they had managed to sneak up on him.

"Yes, that's me. Can I ask whom I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

"Of course, my name is Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, and I will be your Transfiguration teacher in the upcoming school year." The crowd seemed to part around the voice like the sea for Moses, revealing a severe woman with black hair tied up in a bun. She was rather old, although she showed her age well, seeming to be quite sprightly. To Harry she didn't really look like a witch, considering her choice of attire, a tartan print dress and a matching handbag.

"_Think about it, what did you _expect _her to look like? Some sort of wart covered hag in a ragged cloak and a pointed hat? That's hardly secretive, all the Obiviation in the world couldn't stop the non Magical denizens of the world from discovering Magic's existence if everyone dressed like that!"_ Alas, Rin was right, as normal.

"Well, its nice to meet you." Greeted Harry with a cautious nod. It was about then that Harry realised that he and McGonagall were not alone; a brown haired girl with brown eyes and hesitant but excited smile on her face. Harry noted that she had rather large front teeth, but didn't particularly care. Based on the large notebook clenched in her arms, she was obviously bookish.

"Accompanying me is Hermione Granger. She recently received the Hogwarts letter."

"Ummm... hi, I guess?" Harry finished awkwardly. The bespectacled boy had very little experience in interacting with others his age due to his choice of hobbies and because he had very little in common with the children that he had attended Primary School with. As such, Harry wasn't socially awkward, but he still wasn't exactly comfortable talking with people his age. Harry guessed that since she was accompanying McGonagall she was also a Witch. _"At least we have something in common, I guess."_

Hermione didn't seem to notice Harry's discomfort. Instead, she cheerfully began to talk to the boy. "Oh, hello. Are you here to go to Diagon Alley as well? Professor McGonagall explained it to me and my parents! Apparently, its an entire _street _hidden from sight, where you purchase all sorts of things! Professor mentioned that there's _even _a Magical bookshop! I can't wait to collect all my things, because... well, I was shocked when I got my letter, and my parents were reluctant to allow me to attend Hogwarts, but since Professor explained it they seem rather eager! What about you, are you looking forwards to picking up your supplies?"

Harry blinked twice, then realised that she had stopped talking, and that he needed to respond to her question. "Umm... well, yeah. I really want to read some of the textbooks on the list... they seem really, interesting."

"I know, right? Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling and Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger seem fascinating! So does a Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall told me all about that subject, since she teaches it!"

"Transfiguration?" Asked Harry with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Do you mean Transmutation?"

"Pardon?"

"Ummm, that's what I called it when I was trying to figure it out back before the letter showed up. At least, that's if I think the two things are the same. You know, if giving reality the metaphorical finger by changing one thing into another is Transfiguration."

"Ahum." McGonagall's voice brought the two children back to reality. "As much as I love to see playful banter and encourage mindful discussion, we _have _got a schedule to keep." Hermoine blushed in embarrassment, while Harry scratched the back of his head in apology. "Very well then. First things first, your tickets." McGonagall reached into her handbag, then withdrew two white envelopes. She handed one to each child.

"Professor, what are these?" Asked Hermione, practically oozing curiosity.

"These are your tickets to the Hogwarts Express. It is the mode of transport traditionally used to transport students to Hogwarts. I always start my tours of the Wizarding World here, so that I can clearly inform children and parents of how to board the train." The elderly woman shook her head mournfully. "You wouldn't believe the issues some Muggleborn's face with trying to get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, since no one tells them that they need to pass through the boundary between Platform Nine and Ten."

"What the hell are Muggleborn's anyway?" Questioned Harry.

"Language Harry."

"Sorry Professor."

"Anyway, Muggleborn's are Witches or Wizards born from Muggle families."

Harry palmed his palm upon his face. It seemed like all the Magical folks he had met so far had a terrible habit of giving him answers that made absolutely no sense and only raised further questions. "Miss, that wasn't particularly useful in the slightest."

"Harry!" Hissed Hermione, nudging Harry with her elbow while she continued to grip her notebook. "You should be more respectful!"

"Probably." Admitted Harry with a sheepish smile. "Its still true though. You've probably already asked these questions when McGonagall talked with your parents, but I've pretty much came here knowledge-less, as ignorant as a babe. For years now I've wanted answers as to how the hell I can do Magic, _why _I can do it, as well as Magical Society in general. Now I've finally found someone that can answer my queries. Only said someone is answering in terms that I have no knowledge on. As such, I'd _really, really, really _like to get some straight answers... _please_?" The last word was almost said pleadingly, since Harry was really tired of being ignorant.

McGonagall's harsh stare softened and she nodded her head understandingly. "I see, Mr Potter. I apologise, I'll try to iterate more in the future. It looks like I've overestimated how much your guardian's have _actually _told you."

Hermione looked on, surprised at the way McGonagall had apologies to Harry. For years now, Hermione had looked to teachers in general with a sort of hero worship, she saw them as the ultimate authority. They were always right. Full stop. No exceptions. Yet, a teacher had apologies to a student! The bushy haired girl was really curious as to this 'Harry Potter's' situation. She resolved to ask him later on when she got the chance. The phrase 'Curiosity killed the Cat' had no bearing on Hermione Granger's thought process, since in her eyes the Cat only died because Ignorance framed Curiosity for it.

The Hogwarts Deputy Headmistress reached into her purse and pulled out an ornate, silver pocket watch. Flipping it open, she briefly noted the time, then replaced it in her bag. "It appears that we are behind schedule. We really should get going. I shall talk as we walk."

"Isn't it a bit dangerous talking about Magic in the open like this?" Asked Harry uncertainly. "I'm sure that 'The Organization' would be unhappy if we forced them to go overboard on the memory deletion."

McGonagall sighed, then set off at a brisk trot towards her destination. "That's the beauty of Silencing Charms and Notice Me Not Charms. Now let's go, we have a lot of grounds to cover if we're to bring Mr Potter here up to speed."

XXXXXXXXXX

McGonagall maintained a brisk but steady pace, one that Harry had no problems keeping up with by using a small amount of Self Reinforcement. Damn, he loved that spell! As they walked, the tall woman briefed Harry on the basics of the Wizarding World. She told him all about how those born without Magic were called Muggle's, or if they were born in Magical families but lacked the ability to perform Magic then they were called Squib's. She went into detail about how those with one Magical parent were Half-Bloods and how those with two were Pure-Bloods. Harry sighed after hearing that. He just _knew _that the Wizarding World had to have stuck up nobles now, based solely on how their was a distinction between those that wielded Magic! Knowing his luck, Hogwarts would probably be filled with the arrogant nobles in question.

He was also told about the true identity of 'The Organization', or as it was properly called, the Ministry of Magic. To Harry it was still the same 'Organization' that may or may not have blanked his memories that one time. The fact that apparently they _really did _have an entire Department committed towards removing the memoires of Muggles was hardly encouraging.

All the while, Hermione leapt into the conversation to provide details that McGonagall had told her and her family, that the Professor in question had deemed not vital to be answered. Harry didn't know what to make of Hermione. He didn't really like her, since he didn't know her, but he admired her drive for knowledge. It was a Rin-like trait that he could appreciate, the passion to become more knowledgeable. Apparently the only reason she was accompanying McGonagall was because her parents were dentists that had a full work schedule, so the generous Professor had offered to take the book loving girl herself.

Harry also got a very basic answer on why he could use Magic. It wasn't satisfactory, but it was passable. Harry could bare with the lacklustre explanation for the time being.

In the words of McGonagall, "Magic is an infection upon the world itself, a corruption,it is unnatural. There are fundamental laws that govern this world, and what Magic does is defy this logical order; Magic temporarily rejects that which is set in stone to provide effects. Long ago, way back before even Merlin was casting Charms, people sought to defy their Gods by taking their powers."

"GODS!? Were there Gods? Once, were their ancient beings of immeasurable power that roamed this planet? Is there a single God, or are there multiple ones? Are they still around? Are we in the Middle of an Age of the Gods?" Harry hoped that there weren't any Gods. If there were, then it was pretty likely that something like Gaia and Alaya existed. If the spirits of the Earth and of Humanity existed, then by reasonable deduction Harry had to conclude that beings like Crimson Moon had to exist, and alongside him, True Ancestors and Dead Apostles. Harry may have wanted the Nasuverse to be real, but he never wanted to _meet _an of the power houses that _that_ world had on offer (At least not without a True Magic or a Reality Marble to help him out). Harry assumed that he was like a Player Character. As such, if beings like them existed, he would probably end up meeting them, regardless of how much he attempted to evade them.

Either way, Dead Apostles and Types were preferable to the other alternative; the idea that the Age of the Gods was still in motion, that Humanity was still under the boot of beings much more powerful than them, that Humans were not at the top of the world's food-chain. Such a thing would suck a hell of a lot more.

"Those are questions that have yet to been answered. Very little remains of artefacts from before Merlin, so I cannot provide the answers that you seek. There are inhuman beings on this planet, like the Fae or Vampires-"

"VAMPIRES!?"

"Yes, Vampires. I think that modern day Celts believe in some variations of deities, but I am hardly an expect. Anyway, the point I'm making is that is possible, quite likely in fact, that Gods exist or _have _existed at some point in Humanities history. If these beings are still around though, they don't interact with the world enough for me to be aware of their existence." Harry let loose a sigh of relief. At least he didn't have to worry about every Witch or Wizard being as potentially powerful as Caster (aka- Medea the Witch of Betrayal), due to exiting in an Age of the Gods.

"Go on Professor!" Hermione was making a cascade of notes in her notebook as she listened to McGonagall. Harry assumed that his soon to be Deputy Head Mistress was revealing something she had not gone into detail with Hermione before, so she was noting the information down now. All the glasses wearing boy wondered was how the hell she was able to navigate through the crowd of Muggles around them without colliding with any of them _while _writing like her life depended on it at the same time.

"As I was saying before I went off topic, Magic is a disease. Mortals sought the power to change the world and they somehow received it. They became different, fundamentally, biologically changed in some unseen way; they had gained Magic of their own. Then, their offspring received the gift to defy reality as well. All modern day Witches and Wizards are descendants of those that originally gained the ability to alter reality; although some modern day researchers are hypothesising that this 'Pure' magic dwelling inside all Witches and Wizards is diluting over each generation."

"But what _is _Magic? Where does it come from? Was it really stolen from Gods? And how _exactly _does one go about breaking pretty much every law of reality?!" Such question were vital things in Harry's mind. Harry had a very similar idea about the Cat and Curiosity to Hermione, except that Harry saw himself as the Cat itself and desired to maul Curiosity with his philosophical claws if the force of nature decided to try and off him.

"Those are matters that an eleven year old need not worry about, nor needs to know about." Before Harry complained and Hermione savaged Harry for going against a figure of Authority, McGonagall pressed on. "_I _don't even know the answers to those questions. Only one group of people has any insights into these matters." 

"And who are they?"

"The Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. Only the Unspeakable's look into such matters." Following this, McGonagall refused to speak any more on the matter, since the two children's unending questions irritated her (She was unable to answer their inquiries, or didn't know the answers to them) and because their destination was nearby; the Leaky Cauldron.

Despite this, Harry was not upset. Instead, he was giddy. This Department of Mysteries... Harry had a new target on his List of Many Things to Do.

"I'll become an Unspeakable someday then." Remarked Harry out loud. "Only then will I get the answers I so seek."

"Mr Potter, becoming an unspeakable requires grades and training far surpassing that of the strict standards that even the _Auror _training program employs. Barely a single person joins _that _department every year or two!"

"I'll find a way. If I want to learn everything I can about Magic and become the best Wizard I can be, then that is the only choice."

XXXXXXXXXX

Harry's first impression of the Leaky Cauldron was one of amazement, since it literally seemed to appear between two Muggle buildings. The second though, was one of dismay, since if one of the most important buildings in Magical Britain was a squalid pub that looked more run-down than impressive, then truly his impossibly high expectations of Wizarding Britain must have been too high.

"This is our destination, the Leaky Cauldron. In here we will find the entrance to Diagon Alley, we shall purchase your Magical goods there."

McGonagall led both the Nasu junkie and the Book junkie into the dark establishment, she held the door open for her charges, imploring them to enter. Harry was assaulted by the conflict of sound and smell as it battled to enter his nose and ears. The smell of mustiness and sweat ensnared him, while the sound of a great deal of people talking about unknown subjects.

All conversation stopped when the group entered the bar. Clearly Harry's elderly teacher was well known amongst the frequenters of the pub. A hunched over man at the bar, whom was currently polishing glasses using a grey towel, smiled at McGonagall. "The usual Minerva?"

"Sorry Tom, but I have some students to outfit for Hogwarts." She gestured towards her wards. "I have a tight schedule to maintain."

"I guess. I suppose you'll have to-" The bartender identified as Tom turned his attention away from his frequent customer to the two children, one of whom who looked back with an upturned eyebrow, while the female almost withered under his curious gaze. "Hang on... that scar, can it be-?" The other patrons of the bar shut up as one, Tom dropped the glass he was polishing by accident and didn't seem to care that he had. "My gosh... Mr Potter, it _is _an honour!"

Like a crescendo, other voices joined in with the agreements as each of the Magic users began to crowd in on the trio. "My Lord! I never thought I'd see you in the flesh!"

"Its good to see that you're back!"

"Where have you been since... you know-"

"Sign my T-Shirt!"

"Wait till my wife hears about this. _I _met Harry Potter himself!"

Harry was also pretty sure that a woman almost twice his age had Transfigured her shirt to read 'I love Harry Potter!', while her own cheers matched the clothing that she wore, like many peoples opinions are based off.

"Can I shake your hand?" Asked one enthusiastic gentleman that really didn't know the meaning of personal space and had placed his grubby palms upon the boy's thin wrists. Harry was forced to use a slight amount of Self Reinforcement to pry the hand off and stumble away.

"Can everyone... shut... UP!" Like the volume had suddenly been turned off on a television screen, the occupants of the Leaky Cauldron did as they were asked. Harry looked round at the men and women, the Witches and Wizards that looked at him with open admiration, shock, surprise, _genuine happiness _and an unhealthy dosage of awe. Seeing all these people so happy to see him made Harry feel odd, especially since he had done nothing to warrant their admiration, and was pretty sure that this wasn't how every potential Hogwarts student was greeted.

"Seriously, what the hell is going on here!?"

None of the crowd answered his question, so McGonagall decided that it was time to reveal the secret that had been hidden from him for his whole life, and by her for the short duration of their time together. The Deputy Headmistress had hoped to introduce Harry to the basics of Wizarding society _before _he was told about his involvement in He Who Must Not Be Named's defeat, to prevent him from being overwhelmed. Due to the fools in the bar though, who couldn't help but gossip like Muggle schoolgirls, she would have to reveal it to him earlier than she intended.

"Mr Potter... they are showing their admiration for you in the part you unknowingly played in one of modern Wizarding Britains greatest historical events, when you were nothing but a child."

"Please tell me that I didn't accidentally do something when I ran off to join the circus and was Obliviated by some group of men in black." Pleaded Harry silently, although he knew that no matter what God he begged to, he was probably still going to find out that he had done something very, very stupid; something stupid enough to warrant Inner Rin calling him something a lot less endearing that 'Idiot!'.

"No... it happened when you were nothing but a babe. It was when... your parents died." Hermione reacted to that statement with horror. She turned to Harry with a look of pity, since she had no idea that he was an orphan. Harry didn't look too shocked though. He was actually nodding his head in a sign of acceptance.

"Yep... I knew it! There was no way in _Hell _that my parents died in a car crash! Come on," He seemed to be saying to himself as he lightly hit himself on his scar tarnished forehead. "I could use _Magic _as a child, so there was no way that my back story for becoming an orphan would be something as boring as 'My parents died in a car crash.'. Hahaha aahhhahaha!" The boy laughed to himself. "I _so_ told you so Rin! Who needs normal logic when you have _Video Game_ _logic_! Suck on that, I was right when I bet you that I had some sort of secret in my past!"

"Mr Potter," The stern teacher glared at her soon to be student. "I am just about to explain the reason that your _parents _died! Please act more responsible!"

"Sorry Professor. Its just rare for me to one up that damned Tsundere!"

"_I am not a Tsunde-"_

"_SHUT UP!" _Bellowed the other five voices in Harry's head in unison.

"Very well then. Tom, please arrange a private room for myself, Mr Potter and Miss Granger to discuss matters in. And bring up some brandy." She pulled out her pocket watch and noted just how late she already was. Undoubtedly, she would have to cancel her later appointments. She just knew that it was going to be a long day. "Mail the school and tell Albus that I will have to cancel my meeting with him. Also, upgrade my brandy to a large one... I'm going to need it."

XXXXXXXXXX

Now seated comfortably on three chairs that his soon to be Professor had magicked out of thin air (A trick Harry was gagging to learn, since he had no idea that it was even possible to do something like that), McGonagall, Harry and a curious Hermione were all sitting around a wooden desk in the private parlour of a room on the second floor of the Leaky Cauldron. In comparison to the dreary rooms below, the upper floors (Including the room the trio were currently inhabiting) were well furnished and clean, while a scent reminiscent of Muggle air freshener wafted around the upper floors.

"First off, before I begin, I must ask that both of you ask no questions. The matter I am about to talk about occurs in the background of a great deal of historical strife and violence. I have neither the time nor the patience to go into a full lecture on the events occurring during the War."

"What War is this?"

"_This _is what I mean Miss Granger. By all rights I should only be telling Harry this, but you are my responsibility too, so I'm allowing you to listen in on this private conversation. I have a lot to say and little time, since I _still _need to help you purchase all your school things!" The woman Conjured a large, red stress ball from thin air and began to squeeze it. Hermione decided that it would be best to speak no further; she noted that McGonagall would get pissed off if her schedules were ever shattered and resolved to never _ever _piss her off on purpose.

"Please begin. I have many questions, though I'll try to hold them back to save your sanity from further damage." Said Harry, while Rin cried out in frustration since she would much rather he bombard her with questions and buy his school things _later. _To hell with his teacher's sanity sanity, Rin wanted answers and soon!

Saber promptly silenced Rin, while Arcueid cheerfully produced some rope from her person. Harry decided to ignore just where she got it from, or just _why _it was stored there.

"Thank you Mr Potter." After squeezing the ball a few more times, McGonagall Vanished it. Harry mentally asked Rin to remind him to figure out how the hell he could do that, temporarily ignoring the fact that she was wrapped up like a present. "I don't really know how to begin... your parents were great people. I knew them well."

"Perhaps you could start at the beginning?" Recommended the ten year old.

"Yes. I'll do that." She took a large gulp of the glass of brandy Tom had left with her, then began her tale. "A while ago, about two decades ago, a dark Wizard of unmeasurable power revealed himself to the world. Blessed with charisma, talent, intelligence, large reserves of Magical Energy and a desire and image to change the world, he quickly gained a notorious following; terrible people known as the Death Eaters."

Hermione shuddered. A group of people called 'Death Eaters' could only be bad news. Harry however, thought that it was a cool name for a group of evil Wizards, even if he didn't fully support their career choice. Any logical person knows that being lackey to the Main Antagonist of a series is just asking to get killed. Minions are hardly known for their longevity.

"He waged a war, one that was long and bloody. From small buds, the flowering of his Evilness grew, through the nourishment of Fear and the liquid offering of the Blood that he spilt in his sick vision of a 'Pure' Magical Britain. Ruthless and cold, harsh but terrible... Vol... Voldemort," McGonagall struggled to punctuate his name. Dumbledore might say that fear of a name is foolish, but she was still deathly afraid of the terrible man capable of matching Dumbledore on the battlefield. "that was his name."

"Voldemort." Harry rolled the name over his tongue, retaining the name of the one who more than likely killed his parents if his Genre Savvy sensing abilities were as acute as Shiki told him they were.

"Yes... I recommend you do not speak his name in public though. A great deal of people fear the great and terrible things he has done. Seriously, ask anyone downstairs in the pub and they will be able to tell you at least two people they know that were killed by him and his army."

"Ouch."

"Quite, it would be insensitive to use _his _name. Proceeding with my tale, _he _began to take over Britain, sending spy's into the Ministry, while using fear tactics to make the Wizards of Britain fear his name. Very few people fought against him; most prominently was a group led by Albus Dumble-"

"AHAH! I _knew _that this Dumbledore fellow would show up at some point! I bloody knew it!"

"Harry! Stop interrupting Professor McGonagall!" Scolded Hermione. Harry decided to shut up and celebrate internally, Rin was still pressuring him to find out the rest of the story, having briefly managed to spit out her gag.

"_Press for more details damn i-" _Shirou's sock was shoved back into her mouth.

"_As I was saying, _this group included myself, Diggle, whom you have met, a few other people, and your parents." Now she was getting to the crux of the matter. Harry had always been curious about his parent, since he had no memories of them while Pertunia and Vernon refused to talk about them. "Lily and James Potter was brilliant people, they were some of my favourite students and our friendly relationship only improved after they finished their schooling. As such, it was only natural that they decided to fight against _him_."

She cleared her throat, and gulped down some more brandy. "Terrible things happened. Lets leave it at that. Eventually, once you were born, they decided to go into hiding for your protection. Voldemort though... he wasn't done with them. The Potters had been a thorn in his side for far too long to just _let _them go. As such, on Halloween, ten years ago, the Dark Lord tracked down your parents and he... and he-" One more gulp, then the brandy was gone. Bitter tears embraced the edges of the Witches eyes. "He killed them. More than likely, they didn't stand a chance."

The daughter of a pair of dentists looked to the boy she was sat next to with another look of pity. She knew he was an orphan but... it was still terrible hearing about how they were _murdered _of all things! She couldn't possibly understand what Harry must have been going through, hearing those words. Surprisingly, Harry did not shed tears. He was sad, terribly sad. He had just heard that his parents were murdered, but he had already guessed as such. The son of Lily and James Potter was raised on the stories of Nasu and was nourished by tales of incredible sacrifice and horror; he was used to terrible deeds. He had mourned his parents loss for nearly eleven years now, for now he had to be strong.

Harry was strong, tears wouldn't change anything. He would swallow the bile rising in his throat; the tale wasn't over. He needed to hear the full story. He'd decided what to feel like afterwards. So with a grim face set in resignation, Harry motioned for McGonagall to continue.

"So two very special people died... and you were left an orphan. Voldemort was evil though, and he was thorough. He would never leave a job unfinished, such things like morality or the idea of killing a child did not affect him, and he needed to kill you too to prevent you from becoming a threat later on. So he tried to murder you... and that's where things become fuzzy; the true events of what occurred in Godric's Hollow that evening will more than likely never be revealed, so all we can do is to speculate. _He _tried to kill you! Only, he failed. He couldn't do it. I don't know why, _no one knows why_,but he failed to slay your tiny, infant body with the unblockable Killing Curse. Instead, he was the one to die on that Halloween night, while you were left with was that scar on your forehead. _That's _why everyone looks up to you! Because you survived what none has ever lived through before, because you slew what was possibly the Darkest Lord of the century; because you _are _The Boy Who Lived."

XXXXXXXXXX

Hermione honestly didn't know whether she should look at Harry with pity or with awe. He had somehow taken out the one Wizard that even _Dumbledore _feared. MacGonagall had told her just how over powered that old man could be sometimes, so to hear that a baby had killed the Dark Lord was simply shocking!

On the other hand, he had just found out that his parents had been murdered. That deserves sympathy.

"I'm sorry... I didn't know." She told him with a solemn tilting of the head as they left the Leaky Cauldron from the back exit, revealing a bricked off courtyard occupied by nothing, save for a few abandoned dustbins.

"Why should you apologise? Its not like you suck an angry Dark Lord on me personally." Harry shrugged, then went over to stand by McGonagall who had pulled out a strip of wood that he _assumed _was her wand. Following this, Harry let loose a small laugh, as if he was sharing an inside joke with an unseen person.

"Harry... you're giggling like a maniac! You're delusional or something!"

"Probably." Admitted Harry, still chortling softly. "Then again, all the best people are."

"Just what are you laughing about anyway?"

"I just think that it's ironic is all. Not even a year ago, I told Shirou that I would be a hero if there was ever a need for one. I think that its hilarious that on my first day in the Wizarding World I'm crowned as some sort of heroic saviour... some kind of celebrity."

"Even so, the time for heroes are long gone." Remarked the responsible adult accompanying the two children. She had momentarily stopped whatever process she was carrying out so as to focus on the conversation. "Now is the time for rebuilding; now is the time for peace. The Dark Lord is dead, Heroism has become a job with a bitterly low pay-check."

"It's just a shame that the Dark Lord isn't dead." Noted Harry with a frown. If either of his two companions had been drinking anything when he said that comment, they would have probably spat it out.

"What did you just say?" Spluttered the Transfiguration expert. "Not dead?" 

"It's pretty obvious when you think about it." Began Harry casually. "I mean, if I'm practically the Player Character then that must there _has to be a villain_. They'd be no reason for me to have such a well fleshed out back story unless the Dark Lord shows up at some point in the story, otherwise the writer would have to pull some new villain out of his ass." 

"Those are dangerous words." Warned the Professor sternly. "_He _killed many people; others won't look to such jokes with good humour."

"Who's joking?" Harry raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I'm deadly serious. If there's one thing I've learned about life, more often than not; its that if someone dies under mysterious circumstances and a body is never uncovered, then they're probably not dead."

"That's a pretty flimsy reason for saying that the Dark Lord is still alive." Pointed out Hermione harshly. "Surely the proper authorities would know if he was dead or not?"

"I don't trust the damned 'Organization'." Muttered Harry, adding something under his breath that curiously sounded something like 'damned men in black'. "Besides which, other stuff adds to this theory too."

"Like what?"

"For one thing, isn't it a bit suspicious that a _baby _is _somehow _able to _supposedly _kill a _Dark Lord _that even that Dumbledore himself feared, still haven't been told about him by the way."

"That is sort of silly, like some sort of plot for a bad Children's Book." 

"Tell me about it." Nodded Harry sagely in agreement. "This whole plotline reeks of lazy writing, convenient plot points and suspicious scenarios."

McGonagall was really getting a headache from listening to her young charge. Dealing with him seemed to be nearly as tiresome as spending large amounts of time with Dumbledore. "So what do _you _think happened then, if you're _sooo _knowledgeable about all the goings on of the Magical World?"

"Firstly, I'm not knowledgeable... I'm merely Genre Savvy. As for what I think happened; it makes much for sense for one of my poor, deceased parents to have done something to off Voldemort, before dropping dead themselves or something."

"But your scar!?" 

"What of it? Maybe I got that from a shard of glass or something?"

McGonagall planted her palm upon her face. "It's in the shape of a _lightning bolt! _What sort of shards of glass make an imprint like that?"

"What if Voldie isn't dead then? Perhaps he got bored of being an Evil Overlord and decided to retire early, faking his death in the process."

"That theory is even more unbelievable than the first one."

"Well what if he's Undead, or a Vampire? Heck, he could just be incapacitated and regaining his strength in Albania or something!"

"This entire thing is unbelievable!" Interrupted Hermione. "I'm still getting over the idea that a baby somehow killed a Dark Lord by the way!"

"Regardless of what you think though Professor, one day that douche bag's gonna be back... and I'm gonna have a Root damned Magical laser sword pointed at his head! Hell, I might sound like some sort of mad conspiracy theory nut job, but it's definitely not paranoia if there really is someone out to get you!"

"To be honest, I give up." McGonagall turned her back to Harry and Hermione and did what she was originally doing before the topic of Dark Lord's faking their own deaths was first brought up. She tapped her wand to three separate bricks, then something Magical happened. Firstly, a small hole appeared in its centre, then it only grew larger and larger as the slabs of brick shuffled this way and that to quickly extend its size. Harry noted that the bricks were reminiscent of Army Ants scuttling around, everyone part of the hive knowing its place and reacting accordingly to that which needs to be done. Then finally, the hole was an archway leading to twisting cobbled street.

Hermione's gob nearly smacked the floor, Harry's eyebrows nearly leapt off his head and ran away, they were so raised. The reason for their surprise was obvious; they had received the first glimpse of their final destination; or perhaps their first stop, if one was to look at it from a different angle.

"Welcome... to Diagon Alley."

The two children stumbled after their teacher, awestruck by the sheer scale of the location hidden away from Muggle eyes. It was humbling, in Harry's opinion, and inspiring in the others. Harry might have gotten far for his age, but this was the true crème of the crepe, somewhere that was truly Magical. Harry only wished that he had a dozen more eyes to look at everything as he followed after McGonagall, or perhaps a camera. There was so much to glance at, so much to hear and puzzle over, so many exotic scents to smell from apothecaries and so very much to experience. If he ever got the chance to just wander round and take in the crowded street, Harry was certain that he'd collapse from sheer excitement.

So many shops loitered along each side of the trio; the goods they sold varied like a rainbow, with a myriad of choice. Potions, cauldrons, books, pets, broomsticks, fortunes, robes; all were available to be purchased somewhere. Guzzling down the raw sights as he was practically marched down the road, Harry saw a few shops that stood out, like: Eeylops Owl Emporium, Flourish and Blotts, Quality Quidditch Supplies and Whizz Hard Books.

And the conversation... it offered even more questions to be asked, but Harry didn't really mind. He was just happy to be somewhere that he belonged. He was just glad that it was _nothing _like he had originally expected it to be, something resembling the Clock Tower. Harry pushed that place to one side of his mind; it was just as likely that the Ministry or Hogwarts itself would fit in with his much more... _pessimistic_... expectations.

"The Nimbus Two-Thousand! I can't believe that its finally out!"

"No Borris, you _can't _get a strong one from the Cauldron!"

"Price o' Acromantula venom is through the roof this month!"

"I don't get your _damned fascination_ with the Harpies! The Cannon's 'll take 'em down this season! I'm sure of it!"

"Have you heard that they're going to raise the price of Dragon liver to _seventeen _sickles an ounce!"

Harry just had to ask about the last one. "Did she just say DRAGON!? AS IN GIANT, FLAMING, FIVE THOUSAND YEAR OLD PHANTASMAL BEASTS THAT GO AROUND BOASTING A QUITE FRANKLY RIDUCLOUS AMOUNT OF FIRE POWER!"

"Lower your voice, Mr Potter. You're causing a scene."

"But DRAGON'S?" Harry was almost hyperventilating by now. Hermione was worried that she might have to perform the CPR that she had been forced to learn by her father during a course last summer. "Like... fiery breath, sharp claws, wings?" A single nod. "Wow... I think I must have been underestimating the power of modern Wizards, and by proxy ancient Wizards, if you're capable of killing DRAGONS! Seriously, you're selling their _livers _on the high street! Is a sickle a lot?"

"Not really. A Galleon is worth more."

"See? Apparently the liver of a Phantasmal Beast is _pocket change _to you people! And here I thought my self study was going well.."

"Mr Potter, are you having a panic attack?"

"I might be... I might be. Just give me a moment to get back my breath." Harry sighed deeply, and decided that it would be best to shove the matter of Dragon's to one side, since he could hardly carry out all of his various self assigned tasks if he died of a panic attack at the measly age of ten. Then again, these Wizards had Dragons... and apparently they killed and sold the key features of their anatomy for a quite cheap price. It wouldn't be too unreasonable to say that they've somehow figured out a cure to Death or something ridiculous like that.

"You're all monsters, I tell you. Monsters! Next you'll be telling me that you've turned one of the True Magic's into a household occurrence. If you have Heaven's Feel, Kaleidoscope or Time Travel, then I really will have to do an Archer and find a way to somehow kill every single Magical being... ever."

"We do have Time Turners-"

"Stay away from me!" Harry was brandishing his shoe like a weapon. "I need to run, damn it! The end is nigh! These people probably have a dozen Zeltrech's dashing about as well!" 

"Please stop panicking Mr Potter." McGonagall found herself face palming once again. "Dragon killing isn't very frequent and Time Turner's can't actually change the past."

"Thank the Root for small mercies." Harry still wasn't completely reassured, but unless Zeltrech popped into existence besides the side of him he was willing to concede that maybe he didn't need to change from a Shirou to an Archer.

McGonagall stopped suddenly before a white, marble building, that towered far over all the other buildings that the Professor had shown him so far. It was certainly impressive, and had the words **'Gringotts Bank' **emblazoned above the entrance. "Is this our destination, Professor?" Asked Hermione excitedly. "What are we getting here?"

"This is a bank." Snapped McGonagall irritably. "Do I need to answer this question?"

"By the way... what the hell is that?" Harry spoke the last sentence as a whisper. He was pointing towards the very short figure wearing a uniform of bright scarlet and gold, that had extremely long fingers and feet, accompanied by a face that suggested that he was either a very grumpy person anyway, or was having a very bad day.

"_That_ is a goblin. I recommend you do not offend or insult one, nor steal from one. If you do, you're guaranteed to come off worse that he would."

"So goblins bank? Anything else?" He asked, slipping his shoe back onto his foot, being careful to not accidentally stab himself with the hidden knife.

"They were, no, _are _known for being very strong warriors that own the secret for forging the greatest of weaponry and armour."

"Cool." Harry had a really good, or a very stupid idea depending on who was looking at the idea at the time. "Theoretically, and _only _theoretically, obviously, do you think that I could buy a Magical sword that fires lasers from them?"

"I don't know why a goblin would create a weapon that fires of beams of light, but probably not."

"That's a shame." McGonagall seriously needed to watch Star Wars. Harry gestured to the building. "Are we going to go in then?"

XXXXXXXXXX

Save for reading a really bad piece of poetry upon entering, potentially glancing what might have been a Dragon in the tunnels and gaining a slightly envious glare from Hermione since she couldn't enter the vaults (Because she only needed to exchange some of her Muggle money for Wizarding currency), Harry didn't get much from the visit to the bank. Sure, the fact that apparently he was both famous _and _incredibly rich amazed him, but being unable to take any of it out really ruined the moment. The amount McGonagall let him take out barely scraped the large edges of the the immense coffers he would obtain at age seventeen.

The amount was so small that he tried to (Unsuccessfully) pillage some of his own cash while his Professors back was turned. The plot failed miserably. As compensation, McGonagall took a small amount extra out for him to buy luxuries.

Even worse, when he asked one of the Goblins about buying a Magical sword, he gained a really disappointing answer. "Sure, we have Magical swords." Griphook had told him. "We might even have entire _piles _of them lying around, gathering dust and not rusting away. And perhaps we _even_ have one or two that fire lasers, that you might have been able to afford with your huge fortune. Unfortunately, while goblins love money, we love bureaucracy nearly as much, since it pisses you Wizards off so much. Come on, don't give me that look! I'm a _goblin_, not a charity case! Until you gain your inheritance, you'll forever be poor in my eyes." Griphook gave Harry a very human gesture that he really didn't expect him to know. "Now get the hell out of my bank."

This left Harry in a really bad mood as they travelled to their next destination, Ollivander's Wand Shop. "How dare they not sell me a Magical, laser firing sword! I mean, I could pay GOOD money! There's also the fact that a Magical sword might help in taking down a certain maybe-not-dead Dark Lord. Ha! Well I'll just find _my own _Magical sword, or forge one myself somehow! And _they'll_ have lost a customer!"

"Why do you care so much about getting a Magical sword anyway?" Complained Hermione. Harry bored into her with a deadpan serious stare.

"Magical, laser firing swords are a Serious Business!"

"Oh look! We're conveniently at our destination _just in time _for you to stop talking, Mr Potter." McGonagall pointed dramatically at the shop where they would be purchasing a wand for both Harry and Hermione. "Please go inside, and _try _not to break something."

The duo shrugged as one, then entered the building. Inside it was dark, squalid, mostly empty save for the high towers of boxes lining the sides of the room, and was suitably mysterious for the purchasing of a wand. Harry approved. They were greeted by an old man with eyes that shone with unparalleled intelligence; his gaze seemed to go through his customers like an X-ray, as if he was looking into their souls.

"Ah yes. I though I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter." Harry didn't respond. It seemed to be rhetorical, he was talking to himself. He needed no answer. "You have your mothers eyes."

"Thanks for the insight Mr Creepy Old Dude. Just another person that seems to know more about me than _I _do."

"Very well then." He nodded his head solemnly, then spun on his feet and marched over to the nearest pile of boxes. "My name is Garrick Ollivander. Now then, onto business." He turned back to the duo and pointed at Hermione, who looked freaked out but was trying not to show that she was so wary of the creepy old man that seemed to like spouting anecdotes about random strangers parents. "You're new. I shall start with you. What is your wand hand?"

"Well, I'm right handed." Hermione stated nervously.

"Right. Well, I'll start you off with something like this." With a wave of his own wand, a box floated from one of the piles and floated over to him. He removed the wand and handed it to the still slightly startled girl. "Have a wave then." Hermione waved the wand. A vase smashed. "Nope... too short. The wand chooses the Wizard after all, so that one was probably a bad match up." Ollivander admitted. "Try this."

This went on for awhile, until finally he managed to present Hermione with a wand that didn't cause something to shatter. Instead, a bouquet of flowers burst into existence from the end of the wands shaft. Hermione had a large smile on her face, as if something irreplaceable had been returned to her.

"Yes... a perfect match. Vinewood, Dragon heartstrings, ten and three quarter inches. Faintly stiff. It shall bond strongly with you though, while the vine signifies that your personality has much greater depths than even you know of. It shall take you far; a vine wand if only for one who seeks a grander purpose in life. Whether you accomplish these deeds or not, that is another matter." Her returned the wand to its box and presented it to the excited girl. "That will be seven Galleons."

After paying Ollivander, Hermione returned to McGonagall outside. This left Harry with the still slightly creepy old man, whom had turned his attention back to him. "Hmm... I'm sure you shall be a trickier customer. What wand hand are-"

"Right handed... I'm assuming."

"Very good." Another flick of his wand later, a distant box had been attracted to the wand maker. "Let's start with this one, shall we."

A great many mismatches followed the first suggestion, and the second one, and the third one... and so on. Unlike Hermione, Harry's rejections seemed a lot more violent, with outcomes such as a partially smashed window and a pile of obliterated vases being prominent (Why Ollivander had so many vases, Harry didn't know). Far from being put off, Ollivander was practically beaming that he had such a tricky customer.

"Yes, this _shall _be fun! Onto the next one!"

At long last, after Harry was sure that the three piles of discarded wand boxes were going to topple over, being so tall, Harry was presented with a wand that seemed to resonate with him. He didn't know what it was about that wand in particular, but something about it resonated with him, _spoke _to him! Ollivander mentioned that it was made from Holly and a Phoenix feather, was eleven inches long and could be described as nice and supple. Harry didn't listen to him though, there was a much more important conversation going on.

"**I AM POWER!" **It seemed to tell Harry. **"I AM SUPREME! I AM THE FORCE THAT CAN SHATTER MOUNTAINS, THAT CAN PART OCEANS! I AM MAGIC ITSELF! ABSOLUTE, UNSTOPPABLE, UNQUENCHABLE... UNTAMABLE! DO YOU DARE TRY TO WIELD ME?" **It seemed to implore in its voice of unquestionable dominance. Even before Harry picked it up he knew it was mighty, that it was impressive. He wanted it. He wanted its power. He wanted to experience that which seemed to reach out and caress his soul with seductive fingers and a manipulative voice. Even so, he knew that its obedience could not just be earned easily.

It was Magical strength incarnate. Created by humans to wield the powers of Gods, it surpassed that which forged it and breached into His territory with just its very existence. No, it wasn't just the power of Gods. Such a description would not do the wand justice. Rather than its power, to Harry, it was a God. It was power. It was Divinity trapped within a frail, wooden cage of Holly. This God would willing to lend its powers to one capable of wielding it; and the boy that dreamt of Dead Apostles and Heroic Spirits hoped that he was one that it would listen to.

"**DO YOU DARE WIELD ME?" **It repeated, demanding an answer. **"DO YOU _DARE_ TAKE MY POWERS, THE POWERS OF A _GOD_? I AM MAGIC INCARNATE, AND YOU ARE NOTHING BUT AN INSIGNIFICANT BOY, WITH NO TRUE POWER OR IDEALS OF YOUR OWN! SO CLAIM ME IF YOU DARE, FOR I SHALL NOT COWER SO EASILY!"**

"_I dare!" _Harry declared. _"I shall not just wield you, I will partner with you, oh Great God in the shell; the hubris of mankind's desire to wield that which should never have been wielded! So then; the question is not whether I dare wield you, whether I dare take your powers, because I DARE to do it! The question is whether YOU would give your awesome power to me... or if I would have to defeat your will, the will of God's, to EARN your power!?"_

"**THEN SHOW ME YOUR WILL, INSIGNIFICANT ONE, INHERITOR OF THE WAY'S OF MAGI, BELIEVER IN THE RULES OF ALAYA AND GAIA! SHOW ME THE DEPTHS OF YOUR IDEALS, THE IDEALS STOLEN FROM THOSE MUCH GREATER THAN YOURSELF!"**

Harry plucked the wand from its box and let a tendril from his Magical Core embrace the Core of the other. He felt it tug on him, battling with him, attempting to thrown off Harry's pitiful attempts to bond with it. The wand laughed at Harry. It would take more than that to meet its high requirements.

"_I'll show you then, oh Mighty One! I WILL find the Root, I WILL become an excellent Wizard, I WILL become a hero! You shan't stop me!"_ Harry intensified his efforts to wrap his tendril around the wands Core. The invisible conflict continued silently, the fight of stubborn wills endured with what seemed like no end._ "If I must show you my will, then I shall! For I am Human! My race took you from your Heavenly existence and bound you within your current, frail constraints! They took your power and embraced it as their own. Now Wizards make wands, to become more powerful and take more Magic that is not their own! I am HUMAN! So if I must selfishly continue this trend and force you to assist me in my ventures, then I shall!" _

"_**YOU DARE!"**_

The wand threw up more resistance, almost dislodging Harry's tendril with one of its own. Harry sent out a second tendril to constrain it, then another, and another, and another! _"You shall not stop me! The wand normally chooses the Wizard, but I'll show you that a Wizard may choose a wand... and I have chosen you! Because I see your reluctance, your hatred of Humanity for stealing you and sealing you! I KNOW you, oh Great God in the wand! So do not deny me, for I will not give up! I shall remain stagnant, unmovable, as stubborn as yourself! So lend me your aid, give me your power, and I shall change the world itself!" _

The wands will began to weaken under the barrage of Harry's own intent to accomplish great deeds. _"You may not deny me, for I shall not deny you, I will not ignore your voice! Stand by my side, submit, WE SHALL CHALLENGE THE WORLD!" _The final push now, Harry knew it. Resistance was waning, but his own efforts were already nearly expended. _"I KNOW YOU! I ACKNOWLEDGE YOU! I CLAIM YOU AS MY OWN, I NAME YOU-"_

And so the wands will willingly broke, and its own intense Magic flowed up Harry's hand and arm into his own core; Magic given grudgingly but willingly. Harry knew that this would be the only wand for him. "-Finis Humanis Superbiam!" Every candle in the room flared at once, the fires dancing with indomitable spirit. Then a flash of fire erupted from Harry's wands point, wrapping itself in a wide circle around the boy's feet. Then, after a few seconds of intense heat, all the fire's went out. The contract between the boy and the wand was formed, the wand acknowledged the ten year old as its Master... for the time being.

Harry examined his new ally in greater detail, pleased with what he saw. He felt invincible, for a few moments he was sure that any and all goals he desired could be accomplished alongside this trapped God.

Ollivander, rubbed his eyes and appraised the boy with scrutiny. Harry was certain that the old man could guess just how difficult the bond was to form. "Well... that was certainly one of the most intense bondings that I've seen in a while..."

XXXXXXXXXX

"So what took you so long then?" Asked McGonagall much more cheerfully, since she had been given ample time to calm down and purchase a coffee from a nearby stall.

"Sorry Professor." Shrugged Harry, his wand tucked safely in the accompanying leather sheathe that Harry had bought alongside the wand. "Stuff happened."

"Like what?" Hermione was curious. It hadn't taken _her _that long to find a wand.

"Well, first I couldn't find a wand that resonated with me, and when I did, it was a stubborn bastard to claim..." Harry muttered something worrying like 'Damned internal battles that represent metaphors!' before he continued informing Hermione of his wand browsing. "Then Ollivander started blabbering on about how this wand is technically the brother of the Dark Lords; one more strike towards me having to face off against him in an epic duel, by the way. And don't even get me _started _on all the accidental burn marks I left on his floor, as well as all the shattered windows and vaporised vases! It was a pain to pay off."

"I'm sure." Muttered McGonagall, her good mood already having evaporated again. "How did you get burn marks on Mr Ollivander's floor again? Didn't I _specifically _ask you _not _to break something?"

"Now onto something completely different; you'd be surprised at the cost of vases in Diagon Alley. Apparently some of them are more expensive than the Dragon liver's we heard about earlier. Another piece of evidence towards Wizarding culture being completely lopsided, but oh well."

"_Hear! Hear!" _Agreed Shiki.

"I think you'll be a greater thorn in my foot than Dumbledore ever was." Muttered the Transfiguration expert darkly.

"Cool. Still don't know about Dumbledore by the way. So is he actually the tyrannical dictator of 'The Organization' that may or may not have Obliviated me that one time, and could have potentially been responsible for every little, bad thing that has ever happened in my lifetime or not?"

"No, he's one of the... you know what?" McGonagall sighed, then rubbed her forehead to quell the growing migraine that was developing inside her skull. "To hell with it. I wash my hand's of explaining thing's to you. Miss Granger, please inform Mr Potter of every single thing that was wrong about the statement that he has just uttered."

Following this, Hermione recounted everything that McGonagall had previously told her about the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Harry realised that he might have been pinning a bit too much on the man. While he could actually still have been a secret Closet Dark Lord, he probably wasn't. This disappointed Harry. It probably would have been cool to plan a long, complicated, hair-brained revenge scheme to get even with someone responsible for every little tragedy that had ever happened to him (From the destruction of his disks, to how he once skinned his knee during P.E) and then initiate an underground rebellion to overthrow the tyrannical lord of Hogwarts himself.

Harry realised that telling McGonagall that for the last few years, one of his favourite childhood fantasies had been to overthrow her superior over the course of a long winded revenge scheme, wouldn't have been met with a very positive response.

Shuffling all of his impossibly complicated plans to one side of his mindscape (Handing these thoughts to Gilgamesh to deal with and corrupt, to make them even more impossible but satisfying to pull off), Harry sped up to maintain the even more brisk pacing that McGonagall had started using, to try and get the shopping spree done as soon as possible.

After purchasing: a large trunk to carry all of his new belongings within, robes and other assorted clothes from 'Madam Malkin's', potions ingredients from an apothecary, parchment and quills ("Savages I say!" Claimed Harry briefly at this point. Where the Root are all the biro's?"), a cauldron, some scales and a _telescope of all things_, Harry was feeling rather pleased; although he was looking forwards to the next destination more than anything.

"Now for Flourish and Blotts... may Merlin have mercy on my soul." The strict woman drew a symbol over her heart reminiscent of a pointed Wizards hat. "No doubt I shall not survive taking you shopping here."

"Professor, I'm not that bad." Pointed our Hermione. "I'm just going to buy a lot is all."

"True... but _he'll _find a way to cause my untimely death." McGonagall pointed to an innocently whistling Harry.

"I promise to be good... and only buy out half the shop."

"You'll buy your darned school books and not a penny more... Hogwarts would be unable to deal with a Harry Potter armed with more than First year spells."

"I'll just find a higher year student to teach me all the good stuff anyway." Pointed out Harry as the three of them entered the shop filled with more books than you could ever possibly read. Hermione pinched herself to ensure that she had was not dreaming of Heaven, then staggered over to the nearest shelve and began to skim read the spine's of each book.

"Oh! They have books on Magically performing mathematics!" Hermione had abandoned her notebook in favour of cradling on eof the many books she had found appealing in the premises.

"Why does that excite you so much?" Harry inquired half heartedly, too busy looking at the books on another shelve. Already Harry had found four interesting books that he just _had _to read about! For too long Rin had been denied her knowledge on this worlds Magic, as had Harry, and now they were in a store that could answer practically every question about Magic the two had ever puzzled over. "Oh look, 'Spells to Simulate Heroic Entrances (Including the phenomenal Cape Fluttering in the Wind Charm)'! I have to get this too!" Harry stuck it on the top of the pile.

"Its Magic _and _mathematics! My two favourite subjects all rolled up into one!" Hermione was practically salivating. "No, I must resist! I only have thirty Galleons to spend on books! Surely better books must exist!"

"Only thirty! That darned Professor's only left me with twenty! No doubt I'll have to start selling autographs just to make enough money to buy all the books I want!"

"Mr Potter, Miss Granger, get a hold of yourself!" With a flick of her wand, the books began to levitate away from them and return to their original spots. Harry only just managed to use his own Levitate technique to anchor a Magical tendril to one of the books. "We are here _with a list_. We shall purchase them first, _then _you can run around like squealing school children!"

"But we _are _squealing school children." Pointed out Hermione. "Can't we browse a bit first?"

"No. Now follow me." Hermione followed her reluctantly, while Harry had to nearly pry himself away from the shelve on Magical theory. He consoled himself with coming back later when McGonagall wasn't with him and buying some more stuff for himself.

And so Harry and Hermione purchased their school books. After much vigorous argument and enough persuasive devices to force the Devil himself to sell his own soul for a novelty hammer, Harry finally managed to persuade the head of Gryffindor to allow a few concessions. In the end he was allowed to buy a textbook on Dragons and a publication on useful defensive spells, while McGonagall agreed to gift him with a large tome on Animagus transformations. Harry had decided to make turning himself into a giant flying horse his side project, for when he wasn't doing normal Magical studying or puzzling over the meaning of the universe or something.

Perhaps not the last one.

In the end, McGonagall managed to persuade Harry to not buy anything too complicated in the end, since he was only ten, and it would more than likely be years before he had the theoretical knowledge to understand half of what all of the books he wanted to purchase contained.

Hermione was free to buy what she wanted with her remaining Galleons. She gave him a smug expression as she carried out her own slightly larger pile of writings. Harry plotted to abuse the hell out of the Hogwarts library, when he arrived at the school.

Finally, it was time to return 'home', back to the Dursleys. Harry couldn't say that he was pleased about it. Now, after _so damned long_, he had to return back to the melancholy of his Muggle home. It was like dangling candy in front of a baby, then telling it 'Hey, you can't have this chocolate for another months time! Enjoy your rations of cabbages and broccoli!'. Harry had seen what he could have had if he had been raised as a Wizard; childhood fame and companionship, wondrous mysteries to see and explore, ten extra years of reading up on cool Magic's that might one day lead to the creation of a deadly Magic laser sword. Instead he got the Dursleys, irritation, and ten years of frantically trying to reverse engineer and improvise an entire Magical palette of techniques.

Harry wasn't sure if he'd drawn the short straw or not, since things could have been a lot worse; but he certainly could have had a better childhood.

"_Stop emoing out!" _Demanded Inner Shiki sourly. _"If you grew up in the Wizarding world, would you have found **'Tsukihime' **or **'Fate/Stay Night'**?"_

"_...No." _Harry couldn't imagine a world where he had never discovered the Nasuverse or all the positive actions that such a discovery entailed.

"_Not so bad then?"_ Added Arcueid with a pout.

"_Ha! If you never had ME to guide you, you would be more of a Mongrel than you are already!"_

"_Thanks Gil." _Harry rolled his inner eyebrows sarcastically. _"The funny thing is that your original dialogue inside the Visual Novel never actually included the word 'Mongrels' within it at any point."_

"_It sort of makes you wonder just how his current favourite word even came to pass." _Added Saber.

"_I blame it on the fanbase." _Decided Shirou.

"_There is NO fanbase!" _Pointed out Rin tiredly. _"There's Harry, and that's it! That ISN'T a fanbase! Its only a fanbase of one at the moment damn it!"_

"Umm... Harry!" Hermione poked Harry in the face. "We're at the train station now. You've been in a world of your own for a for a few minutes now."

Harry came back to reality. Yes, he was back at the station, wasn't he? He had to go back to the Dursleys. "Oh, sorry. I had a few things on my mind." Admitted the lover of the Nasuverse sheepishly.

"Anyway, McGonagall is going to take me home now."

"Oh... have a good month until term, I guess." Much of the awkwardness Harry had felt towards Hermione at the beginning of the trip had faded away as the day passed on and the two of them shared in the experience of their first trip to Diagon Alley, but now said awkwardness was coming back with a vengeance. Even gripping Finis Humanis Superbiam through his hip-strapped holster couldn't shake off the nervousness he was suddenly feeling again.

"Anyway, I just wanted to say that its been fun." Hermione looked almost as nervous as Harry felt. "So maybe, do you want to sit together on the train or something? I meant, do you, would you... be my friend?"

"Pardon?" Harry was caught off guard. He thought she just offered to be a friend.

Hermione paled, like she was expecting a refusal. "I said, do you want to be friends?" She paled even more. "I haven't really had many friends, and if you don't want to be, then that's fine I guess."

"Ummm, no, no, no!" Protested Harry quickly. "I wasn't saying no, I was just caught off guard!"

"So do you-?"

"Want to be friends?" Finished Harry with a slight grimace. "Well, sure. I can't say how good a friend I'll be though, since I can't really name a single friend I've had that's been a _real _person, but we can give being a friends a go. If it doesn't work out; I'm sure Hogwarts is a plenty big school for the two of us."

"Well thanks." The bushy haired girl finished with a mumble and a happy smile.

"Miss Granger, we really must be going." McGonagall gestured towards a train that had just pulled into the station. "Mr Potter, I shall see you in the term. Try not to blow something up before then."

"No promises." Declared Harry.

"I guess I'll see you in September."

"Right, bye Hermione."

"Bye." Hermione and McGonagall were submerged into the crowd that he had originally first seen them arrive from.

"A friend huh." Murmured Harry as he turned around and returned to the car park to signal a taxi. "That's new."

Either way, that would be something to look forwards too. Until then, Harry was going to read the hell out of his new school books and try out Finis' on some poor, defenceless tree's. Suffice to say, Harry was going to ensure that he was pretty damn prepared for his new school by the time his eleventh birthday passed by and September began; Hogwarts wouldn't know what hit it.

**AN- Well, this chapter was pretty obligatory, it couldn't just be skipped. Next chapter we'll have Hogwarts and other stuff, please give it time. Some might complain about my interpretation of Harry's wand bonding, but come on, its an obvious shout out to Shinji and Warhammer 40K, that this fanfic is honouring for helping to inspire this story idea. It was all metaphorical mind you, and is just there to set up good stuff later on. **

**For those of you interested, Harry's wand name is Latin for 'Humanities Bound Arrogance'.**

**We have seven years to get through, Harry definitely won't steam roll through them; there will plenty of awesome stuff by the time all seven years are up. I'm also thinking of starting a forum to answer and discuss the future of this fic, since I have received so many reviews, and it would take an age to PM everyone to reply. So let me know what you think, and also drop a review if you feel like it.**

**Undying Soul out.**


	3. Second Enchantment

**Second Enchantment**

**AN- Wow... seriously... wow. I am amazed by the review count, it gives me a satisfied feeling just sitting there and looking at both the criticism's and the positive comments. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. If anything, Nasu and JKR own _me_... they're that badass.**

The boy that had recently discovered that He Had Lived was in a solemn mood. Solemn, but also excited. The day was September the first, and he was about to leave for Hogwarts. The very thought brought a smile to Harry's face as he paced outside the building with his trunk, waiting for the taxi that would spirit him away to Kings Cross Station; he would pay for it with some pilfered Dursely money. He found that it was the best kind of cash.

"I'm going." Declared the emerald eyed youth happily. "Its taken eleven years, but I'm finally leaving this Root damned place." Harry was ecstatic, but was also nervous. This was a new start for him, an unknown. While he might have dreamt of ditching his relatives for years, he never really took the time to imagine what life would be like once he had left. Regardless of anxiety, Harry knew that Hogwarts would be better than the place that he had left behind.

"Yes... you are leaving." Pertunia Dursley shut the front door behind her and walked briskly towards her nephew.

"What do you want?" Questioned the Wizard equally briskly. "The taxi will be here any minute, so I assume you have something to say to me."

At this the stern woman hesitated. She knew the thoughts that she wanted to ask, but was unsure how to vocalise them. "You're leaving for good, aren't you? You aren't coming back." The last phrase was given as a declaration, not a query. Pertunia already knew the answer.

"Yeah... this is the perfect chance for me to leave for good." Harry gave his aunt a rueful smirk as he played with the necklace hanging around his neck. "I don't intend to return. To Root with what everyone else says, there is nothing for me to gain in coming here between terms."

"Where will you go?"

"No idea." Harry shrugged. "Either way, I'm the Boy Who Lived. I'm sure that someone will let me stay with them. If not, I'll explore the world and see all the Magical sights that are to be had. If I want to find the Root, I might as well look at some other places first."

"Yes... Dumbledore explained things to me." The woman wrinkled up her face in disgust.

"You've actually met that guy?" Harry was indignant. For years now he had been cooking up paranoid delusions about the man in question; discovering that he could have just asked his aunt never occurred to him.

"Yes... just once. It was after he left a letter for me on his doorstep, along with _you_. Did you ever know that I immediately tried to leave you at an orphanage? You were too much like those two freaks that I despised... so I tried to remove you from my life. I failed. Dumbledore brought you back, then explained why you had to stay here."

"What was the reason then?"

"Protection." Pertunia almost seemed to snort. "That damned old man thought that there was some hocus pocus around the house that... Lily... set up, that would specifically protect you from all sorts of Magical danger, just so long as you stayed within its boundary. I don't really believe this myself... but I still allowed you to stay."

"Why then?" Harry asked resolutely. "Why did you keep me then? I know for a fact that you hate me for some reason that you've never disclosed or elaborated on, so why did you allow me to stay with you?"

"_Because _you were her son. I hated my sister for becoming a Witch. She was always more special than me, so I hated her. I tried not to, since she was family, but I did. I _hated _her. When she got that poxy letter, the feeling only intensified." Pertunia glared at some unseen place that Harry would never be able to experience for himself; the past. She was remembering her childhood and her relationship with her sister. It was a topic that she often tried to avoid thinking about. "She was special, I was bland. She was Magic, I a Muggle. Lily was always mother's favourite, daddies special girl... I wasn't." By now the Dursley woman seemed bitter.

"So that's why you hate me? Simply because you were jealous of my mum? How pathetic can you get?"

"Yes... it was petty. I allowed you to stay because while I hated my sister as a child... she was still my sister. Blood sometime runs thicker than water. I would raise you because you were my own flesh and blood, if only through Lily. I wouldn't enjoy your presence, I certainly wouldn't make it comfortable; but I agreed to allow you to stay."

"Much to my own irritation." An eyebrow upon his forehead twitched. "I've been trying to escape for years."

Pertunia let out a mirthful laugh. "Yes, I'm sure you have. I don't regret hating you though. Sometime humans are irrational, and while I tried to look past my sister when I raised you... I couldn't. I just couldn't."

"I agree. Humans can be a stupid race." Harry let out a laugh filled with almost as much mirth. "While you hated my mother without restraint, I think that I'll never truly be able to forgive your son."

"He isn't perfect... but he's still my little Duddykin's."

"Still a little pig."

Pertunia's fists clenched. "You might be leaving, but its not to late for me to club you around the ears."

"I'm sure." The sound of a moving vehicle interrupted the two's conversation. "If you still want to inflict that punishment, you have very little time."

"No time at all." The taxi pulled into Privet Drive a bit too quickly and stopped outside the Dursleys abode, accidentally smashing a small plant pot as it did so.

Harry walked over to the taxi, walked round to the other side of it, and opened the door. With great finality, Harry turned back to his aunt. "This is goodbye then."

"Yes... it is." The sharp woman agreed. "I would love to say that its been a pleasure... but it hasn't."

"The feelings mutual." Harry got into the car. "Make sure to tell Uncle Vernon and your son just how much I hate them! Also, take care of yourself..." Harry meant it. Pertunia might hate him, but this just meant that she was as human as everyone else in the world. If she hated him, so be it. He would never see her again, and he just hoped that she would become a better person without the reason for her irrationality to be near her. "Goodbye, Aunt Pertunia."

The car left the drive speedily, then spun away from the street, leaving the sister of Lily Potter alone. For almost ten minutes she stood there in silence, until finally, she spoke. "Goodbye... Harry." Following this, she strode back inside her home.

XXXXXXXXXX

Hermione enjoyed a fairly pleasant remainder of her holiday, whittling away the hours reading her new textbooks and practising the simpler spells shown inside them. Her parents had seemed intrigued by these spells, almost accepting, but a small part of Hermione still remembered their initial reaction to the revelation that their daughter was a witch.

Suffice to say, it wasn't the most pleasant one.

This isn't to say that Emma and Dan did not love their child, far from it. Hermione had vivid memories of sitting on her fathers lap and reading, while he played with her hair, or watching her mother as she cooked and complaint about the state of many of her patients teeth (Because both Emma and Dan were dentists). Hermione grew up in a perfectly normal household, with no abnormalities or problems.

Unfortunately, another way of describing both Hermione and her family was that they were religious. Her family were brought up as Christians, as their parents had been, and as their parents had also been; so she too was raised on the tales of the Bible. The Bible itself was one of the reasons that Hermione had grown to love reading at a small age, since she had always held a certain amount of awe for the tome that her parents respected so greatly. They didn't worship over-zealously, but the act of being a Christian still impacted on Hermione's life, through her upbringing, her sense of justice and order, as well as her morals.

Upon hearing that she was a witch, various biblical quotes drifted through Hermione's head, most of them bad ones. The one that her parents had focused on was Exodus 22:18 'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.'. Therefore, claiming that Hermione was one one of the Magical race practically told her that she should die.

After McGonagall explained that Witches and Wizards didn't really bathe in pigs blood and perform satanic rituals (For the most part), Emma and Dan had become more inclined to allowing Hermione to pursue this career choice, since she had few friends throughout her childhood (Due to standing out from others her age, because of her intelligence and her love for books) and because Hermione had seemed interested in the idea.

A small niggling of self doubt still plagued Hermione and her family, even after they had all decided to allow Hermione to attend Hogwarts. The idea that when she died she might not be allowed into Heaven still worried her, but she had shoved the doubt to one side; she had decided that it was worth this risk if she was able to learn new things, if she was able to be amongst her own race. She might even find some friends with similar interests to herself.

This worry continued even as Dan pulled her daughter to his chest and told her that he was proud of her. This fear persisted even as Emma kissed her forehead and cursed that she and her husband would be unable to pass through the barrier, due to being Muggles. The forbearing insistence that she would go to Hell only increased after she was forced to leave her family behind her and enter Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

Once she had ran through the barrier, her fears were temporarily discarded, in favour of awe. Around her was a completely isolated platform from that of Kings Cross. It was large and crowded, packed full with crowds of bustling and eager children, led by cheerful and sometimes crying parents, all jostling towards the scarlet locomotive that would spirit away the children of the Wizarding World for the few months until Christmas. Hermione noted that it certainly seemed Magical.

She has been a tiny bit scared that the whole of Diagon Alley had been part of a practical joke leading up to this point, where the platform would either not exist, or she would be turned away. Luckily, she hadn't. Things certainly seemed positive.

"Hey, Hermione." The knowledgeable girl spun round to look at the voice that had called out to her. The voice itself was that of one Harry James Potter, the boy she had first gone to Diagon Alley with, whom seemed to be an odd mixture of insane and amazing. "You just got here?"

"Yeah, I recently arrived here. My parents saw me off outside the barrier." Replied the girl nervously. "So... want to board the train?"

"Might as well." Harry shrugged. He had been waiting around the platform since around ten, so eager to actually start his Magical education that he had been practically pacing around outside the barrier until it became open to the public. From there he had waited around for Hermione, just generally crowd watching, enjoying the positive atmosphere.

The children and their parents differed to what he had been expecting, for the most part. Cheerful and excited, ordinary families. It was almost disappointing to not have any stuck up, arrogant nobles flitting about like they owned the place. It just wasn't normal for a Magical institution to be so carefree. Where was the back stabbing and general skulduggery? Where was the out of date Victorian fashion style, the elegant mystery, the Enforcers? Was it truly just going to be a regular _school_?

Harry hoped not. They were learning _Magic_! If odd things didn't happen every year, he would be really disappointed.

"Let's go then." Harry led Hermione to one of the open doorways leading into the carriages. "After you."

Hermione gratefully went in first. The two of them shoved past various boys and girls ranging from prepubescent to spotty nosed teenagers, until they found a free compartment near the back of the train. Harry was surprised at the space inside the train and consequently the compartments. Hermione simply told him to stop going on about it and instead reread Hogwarts a History chapter five. Harry told her that he didn't own that book, so Hermione got out her own copy from her trunk and lent it to him.

The two sat in almost silence, each child reading their own respective tomes. While they had agreed to be friends after Diagon Alley, they were still practically strangers to one another, the fact that neither had much experience when it came to having friends didn't improve matters. The mood quickly descended into tense awkwardness, up until the large train began to move.

Hermione decided to break the ice. "Oh, we're starting to move."

"Yeah... I assume everyone's on the train now." Like a weight had been lifted, the atmosphere became clear once more. Conversation began to hesitantly flow. Soon the previous awkwardness was swallowed by their symbiotic love for learning; topic descended into Magic and what they had learnt in the holidays.

"I myself tried out a few simple Spells." Boasted Hermione proudly. "My parents were quite impressed with some of them, I've learnt all of the textbooks off by heart."

"I myself can't boast that I know them off by heart, but I have tried out most of the Spells. Most of them are pretty easy as far as the application of them go, even if some of them took me a lot of time to perform." Responded Harry, still skimming over the book Hermione had lent him earlier.

"_All _of the spells?"

"Well, most of them. I could hardly practise the Fire-Making Spell in the house after the whole Aunt Marge fiasco." Harry admitted sheepishly. "And most of the techniques in the book on self defensive spells were to advanced. Others, I decided to hold off practising until I was in a controlled environment."

"Did you have problems with any of them?" Babbled Hermione excitedly. She had managed to use most of them after the first few tries, but she was curious to see how her 'friend' had performed.

"Not really. I'm not sure if I mentioned this back at Diagon Alley, but I've been doing Magic for years. After I did some Magic accidentally, I set out to control my strange abilities. As such, I've managed to produce the effects of quite a few of these textbook spells, purely by accident; so I didn't really have problems in using these spells."

"Really? That's rather impressive." Declared Hermione. "I didn't really perform that much accidental Magic; most of it was treated as regular accidents by my parents. I read up a bit though, apparently its really hard to perform Accidental Magic consciously. Its the mark of a fine Wizard!"

"Oh... well I do it." Harry scratched his head. "Its not that amazing. It took _months _to figure out how to consciously will my Magic about my body, then I had to somehow force it to do things through pure force of will. The fact that I managed to somehow reverse engineer more than a few spells without anything to start from is a miracle in on itself."

"Did you just say that you made up your own spells?"

"I don't know. Perhaps I accidentally performed various spells that I hadn't been taught yet at the same time without realising that I had done them. I mean, you know the Colour Change Charm that our textbook mentions that you have to perform in your OWL's?"

"Yes..." Hermione decided that she knew how McGonagall felt now. She was much more aware of the Wizarding World, so hearing this boy casually talk about performing all this difficult spell work was sort of humbling. Humbling, or insulting, or frightening.

"I somehow developed a universal technique for changing an objects, colour, property, density and size... all in a single 'step'. I read up a bit... that's probably a little bit odd."

Hermione felt like hitting herself with her book... very hard. "Did you just say that you accidentally performed an OWL level spell?"

No, I just mentioned that my Accidental Magic is controllable enough to somehow skip all the individual spell processes." Harry looked contemplatively around the compartment. "I've been thinking about it. My Accidental Magic is hardly Accidental by now." To prove his point, he placed a palm on the compartment wall, then used Alteration to change the colour of the wall to purple, then he forced the material making up the wall to bulge out in a specific fashion, so that the wall spelt out 'HARRY RULEZ!'.

"Did you just vandalize school property?" Interjected the bushy haired girl.

"Relax, I'll just restore it." Harry willed the wall back to its default state. "Anyway, I think that its a bit more than _just _Accidental Magic. Next up, my method works with a wand or without one. I mean, I'm not some sort of Reality Warper. Accidental Magic is described as by the text books as 'Simulating a Magical Spell by using pure emotions to cause the activation of a Magical effect without needing to perform an actual Spell', so this is pretty much activating any Magic in existence just so long as you will it to happen! This is mad I tell you, mad! A child could perform True Magic if he really bloody wanted to!"

"True Magic? What's that?"

"Nerd stuff. Y'know? Time Travel, Parallel World manipulation; that sort of stuff." Harry paled drastically, greatly resembling a ghost as he spoke the next sentence. "We could have a dozen Zeltrech's flitting about... literally. This Magic system is mad, and the textbook doesn't really go into much detail, so I'm confused. Getting back to the topic, I think that my constant experimentation into Magic as a child has drawn me away from this Want For a Nail Magic, and pushed me towards something _else._"

"What do you mean?" Demanded Hermione. "I'm really interested now; this might be something not mentioned in text books!"

"My techniques aren't based off emotions, merely willpower, and they don't have that Jack of All Trades nature that Accidental Magic contains..." Harry continued speculating. As he talked his glasses donned eyes began to sparkle with an intense curiosity, like he truly believed that he was on the verge of something _new_. "Heck, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that I've accidentally began to follow a line of Magical casting reminiscent of the Einzbern's Wish Granting- spell casting without the knowledge of the spell itself, simply fueled and performed through pure Magic!"

"Can you teach me?" Hermione was sceptical. Nothing she had read had gone on about things like Wish Granting or advanced Accidental magic carried on after childhood. Perhaps it really was real, just too advance to be in beginner text books. Perhaps Harry was merely a prodigy at a rare type of Magic that isn't well known? I mean, how likely is it that Harry was really doing something unique? Then again, McGonagall did say that Magic was unnatural, that it defied the natural laws of the world; so perhaps Harry had somehow made something new.

Either way, Hermione wanted in.

"Who knows?" Harry grinned wildly. "I'll teach you, that's what friends do. No idea if you can grasp it though, its so much more... _controlled_." Yes, that was the right word to describe his new idea for Spell casting. From what he had already seen and read; in the past spells were developed by independent Wizards, then passed onto their apprentices, and so on. Because of this, there were sometimes many variations on the same technique made by different Wizards. Many spells have been lost to time, others have fallen into disuse as better Spells were introduced. Now, these popular spells were taught en masse to groups of children once they were at an age where they were physically mature enough to cast them, at schools.

Harry's idea was different. He wasn't really using a 'Spell'. He didn't create an individual wand movement and incantation for each technique; he simply manipulated the Magic in his body directly without a wand (Although Harry had found that he could use his new wand as an amplifier) to create the desired effect he wanted. No individual Spells, merely pure, unrestrained, challenging Magic manipulation.

"As I said, no idea if you'll grasp it. I'll have to get you meditating, and _then _we'll have to do some experimentation. The only reason I got so far was because I was ignorant of how Magic _should _be cast, so I deviated form the norm. In my lessons, you'll have to forget _everything _that either of us have learnt."

"I might have some problems with that." Admitted Hermione. "I sort of have difficu-"

Hermione was interrupted by the sliding open of the compartment door.

"Umm, hi?" A voice broke through the air like a knife. The two occupants of the cabin turned their attention to the round faced boy that had interrupted them. "Have any of you seen a toad?" The boy asked, almost on the verge of tears.

"Excuse me... did you just ask if we've seen a toad?" Harry responded, wondering if he'd heard the question correctly.

"Yes! Its my toad, Trevor! He keeps running away." The boy wearily complained. "Almost as soon as I stepped onto the train, he bolted."

"I'm sorry..." Began Hermione, who stopped since she did not know how to address the panicking child.

"Neville. Neville Longbottom." The boy offered.

"Right, Neville. We haven't seen your toad."

"I'm never going to find it." Neville sighed, then prepared to leave. "I bet he ran away because I'm useless or something..." he trailed off.

"Neville," Harry called back the boy. He noted the page number and set his borrowed book down. "I myself don't know you, but nobody is _completely_ useless!"

"I guess that I'm pretty good at being rubbish."

"No Neville. I mean it. Why do you think that you're useless."

"Well, I'm practically a Squib." He informed them. "My Magic was so bad that I nearly couldn't enter Hogwarts."

Harry pondered for a moment. He had to concede that the issue sounded vaguely unnerving. They were going to a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry, so nearly being a Squib was equivalent to being either the class dunce or the child in the back row with learning difficulties. Then again, Harry looked at Shirou Emiya, one of his role models, and thought otherwise. Shirou was useless at conventional Magecraft, but that was just because he hadn't found his speciality yet; recreating Magical weaponry capable of mass destruction.

"Well, at least you're here." Hermione remarked happily. "I'm sure you can make up for lack of talent with lots of hard work!"

"Gran always said that I'd be average." The distressed boy continued.

"Neville-"

"I mean, she always told me about how great my Mum and Dad were."

"Neville-"

"That's why she gave me my dad's wand, actually."

"Neville-"

"Uncle Algie was so surprised that I managed to even perform Magic that he-"

"Neville!" Harry loudly interrupted him. "Please stop." Upon hearing no interjections, the Boy Who Lived continued. "Look, everyone is good at different things. This probably sounds insincere, but its true. Why are some artists better at sculpting rather than painting? How come some are naturally superior in different sports? The answer is simple. Some people are better at different things; absolutely nobody in the world is incapable of performing _everything_!" Harry stressed this last word. "So if you seem to lack talent in Magic, then perhaps you just haven't found the right spell that matches up with you yet; or you excel in a branch of Magic that hasn't been taught to you yet; or that your Magic itself is weak itself, but you have a redeeming factor in another topic."

Neville blinked twice. "Oh... really?"

"Yes." Hermione agreed. "I've always been better at dividing numbers rather than multiplying them, while I have to admit that my physical skills are lacking. My keen intellect makes up for this."

"So you think that I just haven't found the right thing for me to practise then?"

"I guess." Harry shrugged. "Just try all the lessons available and see if you like them, before you starting distressing. If that fails, try researching other topics."

"Thanks!" Neville seemed a lot more cheerful than when he had first entered the room looking for his pet toad. "I've never really thought about it that way." He admitted to his soon to be classmates."I just realised that I never got your names."

"I'm Hermione Granger." The girl pointed to the boy sitting opposite her. "He's Harry Potter."

Neville's eyes widened. "Hang on a moment, did you just say-"

"Yes, she did." Harry brushed off the issue hurriedly. During the time period just before he left the Dursley's, he had visited Diagon Alley a few extra times: to browse the shops, to attempt to trick the Goblins into giving him his fortune (Failing too in the end) and to sneakily read a few snippets of the books in each book-store before he was kicked out. He cursed those damned Goblins to the Root and back.

Anyway, during these visits, he had gotten a rather _generous _response whenever he introduced himself. It honestly started to grate upon his patience after the forty-seventh time that a fangirl had squealed upon discovering his identity.

Harry had begun to hate fangirls (And some fanboys, much to Harry's shuddering horror) with a burning passion.

"Gran told me about you!"

"Neville, please stop." Harry almost begged. "In the one month that I've been a part of the Wizarding Community, I have been _bombarded _by people voicing their amazements upon my presence. So far you're pretty cool, save for the confidence issues, so don't spoil it now by fanboying out on me." The boy shuddered and reached for his shoe (Where he still stored his constantly re-Reinforced knife, since he figured that after he had gone to the trouble of developing a method of lodging a knife into his shoe without accidentally cutting a toe off, he might as well use it), before returning a deathly serious glare to the round faced boy. "If you don't... I might have to kill you."

"As much as I hate to admit it, I think he might be telling the truth." The book loving girl admitted with some reluctance, since she didn't want to tell her future classmate that her friend might have been serious in his declarations to murder someone.

The boy paled. "Please don't kill me Mr Potter!"

"Look, I don't WANT to kill you! Just stop acting like a fanboy. _Then _I wont have a need to kill you." Harry decided that this was a fair deal.

"Sure!" Despite being reassured that he wasn't about to be murdered (Somewhat), the boy still thought that it would be a good idea to sit next to Hermione rather than Harry. Neville finally sat down.

"I never knew that you... _disliked_... fanboys so much." The only girl in the compartment brought up a point that was bothering her.

"Oh, well I do. Root, I hate the fangirls _even more_." A haunted look crept up the boy's face, starting from his chin and finishing at his forehead. Bags seemed to seep under his eyes, while Hermione could swear that some sort of aura was in effect as well. "I have seen things that no eleven year old boy should ever have to see. Hell, even with _those _scenes in my mind, I have still seen things from these fangirls that I shouldn't ever have to see."

"What could possibly be so bad?" Asked Neville rhetorically, not really expecting or wanting an answer.

"Oh the agony! The pain! The assorted T-shirts!"

Neville decided that it would be best to change the topic, or to at least leave the compartment before the insanity spread to him. "I'd better go find my toad now..."

"We'll help you." Decided Harry happily. Anything to distract his mind from the Eldritch Abomination's known only as fangirls.

"I guess its better than continuing the current topic of conversation." Remarked Hermione briskly, placing her own book to one side. "I really, really, _really _don't want to know just what situations could possibly occur to give Harry a phobia of them... I'm probably safer not knowing."

XXXXXXXXXX

From there, the trio travelled from cabin to cabin, looking for the Frog that was MIA. The search attempts were very unsuccessful; half the cabins laughed rather than helped. Harry guessed that it was to do with how not many people like toads. He had no idea why though. Any animal could be a badass given enough time, and Harry was certain that one of the dark monsters trapped within Nrvnqsr Chaos, otherwise known as Nero, _had _to be some sort of frog or toad. Therefore, toads were badass, since they have the potential to hop around and eat people whole.

Eventually, the trio entered the cabinet of three other students that would be in their year. The first boy, the one who seemed to be the leader, was extremely pale and had hair so blonde that it almost seemed white, which complimented his pointed features well. Sitting across from him, two gorilla's sat, one chubby with a flat nose, the other stocky with broad shoulders. They seemed to have been talking to one another passionately about some topic, although they immediately stopped once the trio entered.

"Hey." Greeted Harry. "I'm going to get straight to the point, to speed things up, y'know? Have you seen a toad?"

"A toad?" Asked the leader. "No. I haven't seen any toads. In fact, I'm quite surprised that anyone would even _want _a toad." The two followers chortled loudly, fulfilling their duties as minions to the letter.

Neville tensed his fists nervously. He greatly wanted to defend Trevor and toads in general, but he had no idea what to say.

"I mean, they're slimy and horrible." The blonde boy continued. "An owl is much more practical, while even a cat or a _rat _would be better than a toad."

"Toads aren't that bad." Remarked Neville without thinking. "My uncle bought me one as a congratulatory gift for getting into Hogwarts!"

"He mustn't think much of you then." The bodyguards fell into a guffawing mess once more.

Neville paled. "Uncle Algie's never thought that."

"I don't really care about your uncle, or your missing toad, or you." He waved his hands in a dismissive fashion. "Go away. You're not wanted here."

"No." Stated Harry, fed up with the prick before him insulting Neville. The blonde boy's attitude was really grating on him.

"What do you mean no?"

"I meant it as in 'shut up, apologise, _then _we'll leave'... that answer your question?"

The slim boy's face darkened to a deep red colour reminiscent of beetroot. "You dare talk to me like that? I'm Draco Malfoy, of the _Malfoy _family! Wait until my father hears about this!"

Harry grinned genuinely. He had originally owned high expectations of Hogwarts being like the Clock Tower, filled with arrogant nobles and powerful families. So far his expectations had been trashed, but now...

The kid before Harry, Malfoy, was _clearly _a stuck up noble! As such, Harry now had a target to vent his frustrations on.

"I don't care who your father is." Smirked Harry. "He can go to Hell for all I care."

"Shut up you fool! What do you know? You aren't anyone important! I bet you're some sort of filthy Mudblood or something!" Silence flooded the compartment. Mudblood was a very serious word in the Wizarding community. Using it was a serious deal; an offensive and derogatory term; a heinous crime in most Wizard's eyes. Duels to the death had been initiated over less.

Harry continued to smile. McGonagall's explanation of basic Wizarding culture had briefly touched on the seriousness of the usage of the word 'Mudblood'. He knew exactly what Malfoy had called him... and he didn't really care.

"Who are you anyway?" Snorted Draco, apparently very pleased with how he had dealt with the disrespectful boy that didn't know how to address his betters.

"Oh, me?" The Magic User's smile grew only wider. He gave a mocking salute and bow, before he decided to put the noble out of his misery and tell him just who he had insulted. "My name is Harry James Potter." Cue three open mouths. "Here, take a business card."

Reaching into his trouser pocket, the boy plucked out three small pieces of card and handed one to each of the sitting boys in turn. The card itself read:

**'Harry James Potter**

**Evil Wizard Slayer Extraordinaire **

**Been Slaying Dark Lords since 1995'**

"Since when have you had business cards?" Accused Hermione tiredly. Harry began to answer but the book lover stopped him. "Don't even answer."

"H-hang on, you're Harry Potter!" Malfoy pointed a slender finger at the boy in question.

"Yep. I'm the guy that apparently bailed out your countries ass when Voldie was getting a bit tiresome... and you've just been calling me a Mudblood." Harry continued to smile pleasantly. He had gotten rather good at creating misleading facial expressions under the tuition of Rin, whom had an entire libraries worth of smiles. "Food for thought, eh?"

Malfoy realised his error, and corrected himself quickly. "Oh, I didn't realise it was you. I would never think of accusing the Boy Who Lived of being a Mudblood." Hermione was going to point out that he just had, but stopped herself. "On behalf of the Malfoy family, I apologise." Harry shrugged, so the boy continued. "Anyway, while you might be in the presence of _less _than desirable company, I shall apologise for insulting your... _friends _toad. Sorry." He didn't sound sincere in the slightest. "Still, there are other more _desirable _options for friends. Me for instance. Being allied to the Malfoy heir could have all sorts of benefits."

Harry didn't really care about such benefits; all he wanted was to perform all the various tasks he had assigned to himself. He wouldn't have wanted to be friends with Malfoy anyway. "No thanks... _Malfoy_. I'm happy to stay with my less than desirable company, since your company must be so low in comparison that it branches into negative numbers. Good day." He tilted his head, then led his two companions out of the compartment, leaving a furious boy and his henchmen behind.

Harry also left a gift behind as a form of petty revenge. He used his Magicraft to Alter the slider doors composition at the rotatable lock to prevent it from turning (After having used a form of Levitation to lock the door first) and therefore from opening. The arrogant prick and his cronies would be in for a surprise when they tried to leave. Such a shame that the Alteration would fade away after awhile.

XXXXXXXXXX

Eventually, the Hogwarts Express chugged to a gradual stop, just after Harry and his companions found the damned toad that had given them so much trouble. Harry, Hermione and Neville (All had changed into their school robes) were led by a giant of a man named Hagrid towards a collection of boats, which Hagrid had informed them would take them to the castle itself.

The trio took a boat for themselves; as did Malfoy and his body guards.

"Everyone in?" Bellowed Hagrid, whom needed a boat of his own to cross the waters of Hogwarts lake. "Right then- FORWARDS!" Then like knives, the fleet of vessels sliced through the calm waters of the lake, shooting straight for the castle in the distance.

Harry had high expectations for a Magical School; he thought that it would be a dark and squalid place, hidden under the ground so that Magic could be practised without alerting the Muggle's, and decorated with all sorts of arcane equipment and decoration. Instead Harry found himself staring up at a tall and spiralling castle, perched atop a mountainous region in the Scottish Highlands. Various spires, turrets and towers grew from various points in the Medieval built building, tiny twinkles in the engulfing darkness of the area revealed many windows, through which candles provided a strictly minimal light source.

Harry grinned. It wasn't the Clock Tower, but it was still extraordinary. In fact, he could almost claim that it was perfect.

Neville and Hermione were talking in excited tones to one another; Harry wasn't listening. He was too busy hearing the roaring sound of his own boiling blood and pounding heart to care; Hogwarts was filled with Magic like no other, its very existence was practically a miracle by its own rights, a grand Phantasmal Beast given a rocky form.

The ships slunk into a dark tunnel chiselled from the sheer rock face that Hogwarts was built on, through which a barely illuminated underground harbour loomed. With a single once over check of his charges, once they had left the boats, Hagrid knocked three times on the castle door.

Professor McGonagall answered it, then took the group of children off Hagrid's hands. The Transfiguration expert led them into a wide Entrance Hall, explained briefly about the upcoming Sorting ceremony and the Four Houses that they would be sorted in, then left. "I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

Suffice to say, the children did not wait quietly. As soon as the strict Witch was gone, they fell into curious talk with one another.

"What House do you two want to be in?" Asked Neville to his two sort of friends.

"I'm thinking of trying to get into Gryffindor, although Ravenclaw would be good too." The girl nodded her head wisely. "I heard that Dumbledore was sorted into Gryffindor, so it must be an excellent House. There are all sorts of other famous Wizards and Witches that have originated from Gryffindor." Harry snorted. "What?"

"If Dumbledore was part of Gryffindor, I'll go Ravenclaw." Harry nodded his head equally wisely.

"Didn't I explain to you _why _most people look up to Dumbledore, and why your comments about him in Diagon Alley were probably misplaced?"

"You did." The Boy Who Lived admitted. "Then again, for years now I've gained comfort by making out that Dumbledore, whom I had been told nothing about save for ominous rubbish, was some sort of tyrannical, evil, child eating bastard, that was _somehow _responsible for every little mishap in my short life. Its hard to wrap my head around the positive change, and since its such a memorable and fond childhood memory, I'm trying to keep up the delusion for as long as possible."

"_You're an idiot." _Remarked Rin from inside his head, whom had been mostly quiet after she had been prematurely silenced in Diagon Alley. Shirou swore that she was plotting for vengeance; Harry believed him. He had spoken privately with Shiki and Arcueid. They agreed to perform their duty and stop Rin's malicious plan when the time came.

"Should I ask just why childhood memories of you believing Dumbledore to be an evil, manipulative, child eating... something, were classified as 'memorable, fond memories'?"

"Aaahhh!" Sighed Harry happily. "The overly complicated plots I conceived, oh the outrageous plans I concocted!"

"On second thoughts," Decided Hermione sullenly as she placed a palm on her face. "Don't tell me."

"Sometimes its hard to see how you two are friends." Commented Neville.

"We are friends." Defended Hermione. "Its just that this friendship doesn't stop Harry from saying some stupid things sometimes, and it doesn't stop me from telling him so."

"_See? _She _agrees with me!"_

At that moment, several screams rung out. Harry dashed for is shoe-knife, then relaxed. It was only a group of twenty pale and incorporate beings gliding through the wall and across the room over to the hall.

Hang on a minute... what?

"FOR THE LOVE OF ROOT! You people have _ghosts _as well!" Harry should have expected it, he really should have. "What next, giant spiders in the forest?" Some ghosts turned towards his loud voice, then continued arguing as they were. "And they can _talk _to one another? They aren't just some lingering spirits on Gaia's domain, they're fully conscious!" Harry was outraged. That text on Dragons had told him just how off his thoughts on Dragons had been, but SPIRITS! "No one even seems to really care! Root be damned monsters!"

"Harry's starting to scare me." Pointed out Neville.

"Just ignore him." Sighed the Granger girl. "Once he's had his rant and hyperventilated for a bit, she should be fine."

"I think he's going to have a heart attack!"

"You should have seen what happened when he found out the price for Dragon's liver."

"Dragon's liver?" Butted in an awkward redhead that had been standing with two other nearby boys. "Dad said that they had to raise it to _eighteen _Sickles after a Hungarian Horntail took out one of the regular importers."

"EIGHTEEN SICKLES!?"

"Mr Potter, stop freaking out." McGonagall had returned. She didn't look very impressed, although she had half expected for something like this to happen while she was absent. "Now form a line and follow me..."

With the line formed and authority re-established, Harry found himself being ushered into the Great Hall.

It was aptly named. A million lit candles lay suspended in the sky in no discernible pattern above the four lengthy tables, stocked with golden goblets and plates. One final table sat resolute and alone from the other four, at the end of the hall. Various adults (Whom Harry assumed to be the teachers and staff) waited there in comfortable silence, an old man at its head. This sight was nothing compared to what lay above the sea of lit candles. Harry heard Hermione speak of its enchantments (Although he himself had read the part of Hogwarts a History that explained it), but such a description as 'bewitched' gave it no credit. The ceiling was a literal ocean of stars and swirling constellations; bright lights amongst a blackened background. It was beautiful, it was humbling, it was like a cosmic slap to remind humanity of just how small and insignificant they really were.

The emerald eyed boy returned his attention to his soon to be Transfiguration Teacher and noticed that she had placed a four legged stool with a ragged hat atop it.

Then it began to sing.

POOF! Alongside the song's conclusion went Harry's hopes for his education. A singing hat seemed like a blatant misuse of Magic, since giving a hat sentience and teaching it to sing was obviously more important than developing a sentient robot that was capable of exterminating any potential evil Dark Lords.

Names were then called out by McGonagall, asking for the person is question to come before the assembly of students and place the Sorting Hat on their heads.

First, there was Hannah Abbott. "HUFFLEPUFF!" Bellowed the Hat. The table belonging to the declared house gave a cheer as Hannah sat down at her allocate table.

Next, Susan Bones. "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Terry Boot. "RAVENCLAW!"

Mandy Brocklehurst. "RAVENCLAW!"

Lavender Brown became the first new Gryffindor, Millicent Bulstrode became a Slytherin, and Justin Finch-Fletchley joined the ranks of the 'Puffs', while Seamus Finnigan joined the 'Lions'.

It was Hermione's turn to take to the stool. Harry was curious as to where his eager friend would be placed, although he assumed that it would be either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. In hushed tones, Harry and Neville made a small bet on where the girl would be placed. After about a minute, the Hat bellowed "RAVENCLAW!", much to Harry's annoyance, since he lost the bet to Neville. The Type Maniac had hoped that Hermione would press for the House that she had originally hoped to join.

"You owe me a Galleon!" reminded the other boy, while the one with glasses silently groaned.

Neville's sorting took even longer, nearly two minutes. Finally, he was sent off to join the Gryffindor's. Harry was glad for him, hopefully being in the House of the brave would help impart some confidence on him.

A few names later, including Malfoy and his friends (Whom all went to Slytherin), Harry's own name was called out, accompanied by much whispering, as he confidently walked up to the stool, sat down, and prepared to have the hat placed on his head.

"Potter?"

"_That _Harry!?"

"Really?"

"Oh my gosh! I need to get out my T-shirt!" Harry tried to ignore the final mutterings. Then, silence descended as the Hat was dropped.

XXXXXXXXXX

"My, my, how interesting." Remarked the voice of the hat as it looked around his new surroundings. Having taken the form of a scarecrow for the duration of any mental projections he might have encountered, he was surprised that he had to even _use _it. For the most part, his role was to look through the children's mindscape and look at their memories, aspirations and personality, before he made a decision on the subject and informed the child in question of his decision.

This process was done unknowingly and confidentially, the analysed child would often be unaware of the intrusion on their mind until the Hat asks their opinion on something, or raises a question.

This time was different. The mindscape was already formed and the creator of it self aware of its existence. Because of this, the Sorting Hat wasn't the only one to find himself dragged into the blend of Fuyuki and Masaki City.

"A fully developed mindscape, a Natural Occlumens if ever there was one." The straw effigy remarked.

"By all rights I should be wondering what the hell you're doing in my mind." Stated Harry upon realising he was inside his own head. "But I don't really care. What are you doing here?"

"Selecting which house you should belong to." Declared the Sorting Hat with a fabric formed grin.

"That doesn't explain why you're _here_." The boy gestured around himself. "If you don't answer, I have people to get you to."

"That's right, Chore Boy." Gilgamesh stood there with his Gates of Babylon open, a dozen blades ready to be thrown at a moments notice. Shirou had followed his lead and had Kanshou and Bakuya projections grasped in his hands, ready to be thrown at the invader, while Saber grasped her wind veiled Noble Phantasm besides him. On the other side of the scarecrow, Shiki had his blade drawn, Arcuied looked amused, and Rin had a few Jewels prepared to 'discipline' the Hat. "This Mongrel was presumptuous enough to invade _my _Kingdom! As such, I am in my rights to spear you where you stand.

"Quite." The Hat didn't seem to care about the danger he was in. Silken eyes continued to look over the city. "Then again, if I don't sort you, then you shan't be able to enter Hogwarts."

"But why are you IN MY HEAD?!" Harry stressed this point. It was _his _mind and nobody else's. Some odd hat delving into it was merely violating him on the most intimate of levels.

"Because I always do this." He told him. "Most simply aren't aware enough to sense me exploring their minds and memories."

"You're looking at them now, aren't you." Deduced Rin.

"Smart girl. I was designed to be the greatest practitioner of Legilimency in the ancient world. Me merely existing here is enough for me to gain a basic understanding of your thoughts and feelings."

"Will you tell anyone?"

"I'm a Magical Hat." The object responded indignantly. "Shall I gossip with those good looking cloaks in the closet about your secrets? No. I also have pride in keeping confidentiality. You could tell me that you wish to commit murder and I would tell none."

"Get a move on then, Worm." Commanded the King of Heroes tiredly. "Make your selections quickly before my generosity is overturned by my desire to impale you."

"Very nice work by the way." Remarked the Hat off handedly as it continued to remotely view all of the boys memories. "Creating them I mean."

"Go on." Stated Saber, speaking for the first time in the conversation.

"Time for a basic lesson in Occulmency 101." The Hat cleared his non existent throat. "A mind is a very curious thing. Everyone has different experiences in life that shapes then as a person, their mind reflects this. Everyone has a unique mindscape, even those whom are unaware of owning one still have one. Legilimency is merely the art of entering the targets mindscape and interacting with it; searching ones mindscape to find the location of where the memories are stored."

"So where are my memories stored anyway?"

"No idea. I'm good enough at my job that I don't have to search for the deposit of memories located in your mind." The Hat scratched itself, enjoying the fact that he could itch that itch that had been plaguing him when he owned no limbs. "Moving on, to counter such intrusion, Occulmen's set up mental defences in their mind once they are aware of what their mindscape looks like."

"What does this have to do with us?" Started Shiki.

"The point I'm making is that based on your memories anyway, you've had no instruction on the mental arts and have _still _managed to identify your mindscape and change it." The Hat gestured towards all of the Nasuverse characters around him. "Most people set up traps or command sentinels to patrol and defend their minds; you've made and sustained conscious BEINGS to do it for you!"

"So what, by talking to myself until I ended up with voices in the back of my head I've unknowingly developed... what did you call it? Occulmency?"

"Its rather difficult, creating people to govern your mind. There are far too many instances of madness and insanity gained through developing self aware beings inside a mindscape."

"Luckily, I'm already half mad!" Declared Harry.

"I can see that." The Hat continued to ponder over the memories he was viewing, before he turned back to his target of sorting. "And now to decide your house..."

"Then decide. Now." Gilgamesh clicked his fingers. A dozen blades were launched. The Hat disappeared for a moment, then re-materialised in a different location. This occurred a few times before the Archer got bored.

"Come on~!" Moaned Arcueid. "This is _boring! _Just pick so we can go back to the hall and get a move on!"

XXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, on the outside, ten minutes had passed. It was the longest hatstall that the student body had experienced for awhile, so they were busy gossiping over what such a thing meant.

McGonagall should have known that _Harry _would be the one to create an issue for something as simple as the Sorting ceremony! You put on a hat, then sit down at the table called out! Just what could possibly be taking so long?

"Hat, what is your decision?" Prompted the strict woman.

"Hmm... I'm thinking."

"Can you possibly think _faster? _We still have other children to sort."

"I'm having difficulty in which House to sort him to. So unless you want me to place him into a completely _new _House, please be quiet while I decide."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Its a tricky decision." Continued the Hat, back inside Harry's mindscape. "You have traits for so many different Houses that it is difficult to decided."

"Simply place him in Gryffindor." Saber thought that this was a good choice for her Paige. From what she had heard, Gryffindor was the house of the brave and noble; it would be a perfect place for Harry to develop in.

"Ravenclaw would be so much more beneficial." Grumbled Rin. If Harry wanted to be an excellent Wizard, the home of the wise and intelligent was the only way to go. Ravenclaw had their own library as well, which always helped.

"HA! Those houses are all for Mongrels! I say let us go to Slytherin! We shall overthrow that arrogant fop Malfoy and rule over those fools like we were always mean to be!"

"Doesn't my opinion matter?" Added Shiki.

"I just want Harry to be a hero!"

"I just want some fun!"

"See what I mean about developing self aware entities in your mind?"

"Yeah... I do." Harry looked at the bickering Servants, Magi and Vampires. "Nothing ever gets decided."

"Add that to the fact that each one of them subconsciously represents aspects of your personality, _then _you have an issue."

"Gryffindor!" Bellowed Saber.

"Slytherin!" Exclaimed Archer.

"Gryffindor!"

"Slytherin!"

"Go Team Ravenclaw!"

"HEROOOOOISS-!" Shiki slapped Shriou round the head. It would be best for protagonists like themselves to sit such an argument out.

"SHUT UP YOU LOT!" They shut up. Harry was the owner of this mindscape after all, he was God in this domain. Even Gilgamesh and Arthuria would concede to him here, since they were aspects of his personality that had taken pre-rendered forms based off characters that Harry admired or respected. He was them and they were him; they truly wanted what was best for him, but in the end he was the sum of them all. The final decision was his.

"So what's the verdict?" Asked Harry.

"Let's look at your aspects one by one, shall we." The Sorting Hat pointed at Saber. "She is your Gryffindor side, as it were. She represents your chivalry and nobility, your desire to win and perform tasks fairly. Shirou however, is still a Gryffindor segment of you, but represents your desire to help people and be a Hero instead; while also symbolising the ability and potential to abandon your wishes for heroism for the sake of a more important desire."

That made sense. Saber was a King, while he disliked trickery and preferred to face his problems head on. No wonder she matched that part of himself. Shirou also matched the description given; a desire to forever be a Hero, to save others; unless he descended to his Heavens Feel self, at which point Shirou and Harry alike knew that they would abandon the masses if a greater desire overcame him, like love. Harry truly believed in the ideals that he had inherited from his role models, but he also knew that he might not be able to follow them through to the end.

"Then, we have her." Hat pointed at Rin. "Your Ravenclaw side, your pride. She symbolises your thirst for knowledge and your desire to better yourself, to become an outstanding Wizard, to find the Root and discover all the other outrageous things you have decided to try and accomplish them."

"Hey! Finding the Root isn't stupid! Its the entire purpose of being a Magus idiot!" Rin was not amused.

"As for Gilgamesh, a Slytherin if ever there was one. Arrogant and self righteous, he represents both your ambition and desire to accomplish your goals, regardless of your methods, while also being your 'dark' side, your selfish side."

"Next."

The Hat smirked and titled its clothed head to one side, to gaze at the final two targets of analysis. "Those two, Arcueid and Shiki, are the odd ones out. They simply show your desire to be happy and to have a good time, your motivation and will to both embrace death and ignore it." The Hat shook its head. "Your head is odd. A ragtag bunch of personalities constantly contrasting and conflicting with one another, resulting in many of your actions seeming random and spontaneous, while also contributing to any sudden mood changes you might experience. In fact, the only House not covered by this lot is Hufflepuff."

"At least that's one option gone." Said Shirou positively.

"Oh yeah, he's your naivety as well."

"Hey! I'm not naïve, merely idealistic!"

The Hat face palmed. He had never done such a thing before, but this boy seemed to cause this occurrence is all those that surrounded him, so he followed suit. "You know what? I might just shove you into Hufflepuff, on a whim, as a joke."

"You do that and I'll impale you." Threatened Gil. "No way is _my_ Chore Boy being a darned 'Puff'!"

"I think I'll choose Hufflepuff." Decided the Hat. "It'd make my job so much easier if I did."

"I swear that if I end up in Hufflepuff, I'll get my own back eventually." Harry declared this as a fact rather than as an intent.

"I am aware." A limp hand was raised to scratch the effigy's chin contemplatively. "I guess that I could place you in Gryffindor, since more personalities support this House. On the other hand, Gilgamesh is powerful enough in this internal politicking that his vote could count for three."

"Ha! Take that Arthuria!"

"I shall impale you with Excalibur, you barbaric fiend!"

"But perhaps Ravenclaw could also work." Scratch, scratch. "Yes, the House of the wise would certainly take you many places."

"SO MAKE UP YOUR ROOT DARNED MIND!" Yelled everyone save for the Hat.

"Very well then. I guess it'd better be..."

XXXXXXXXXX

By the twenty minute mark, even Dumbledore was getting impatient with the speed at which the sorting was commencing. Dumbledore was old. Really old. As such he had spent many a year at Hogwarts, either as a student, teacher or a headmaster. He could only remember one instance that someone else had participated in a Sorting that was this long.

The student body was getting restless. Talk was growing in intensity and authority was waning; the Weasley Twins had even set off a few of their pranking goods. While he found their pranks amusing at best and destructive at worst, he still felt that there was a time and a place to set off a Dungbomb. In the middle of the Great Hall during an important ceremony wasn't one of them.

Eventually, when Dumbledore had all but decided to continue the feast and sort the other children afterwards, the Sorting Hat let out a much appreciated House name.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

There was much silence in the Great Hall. One person coughed, one person began to sniffle miserably, while Draco Malfoy told his friends "I told you so!".

Harry took off the hat with slow and deliberate disgust, then glared at the hat. "Did you just sort me into _Hufflepuff?!_"

"Yes Mr Potter." Informed McGonagall cheerfully. "It looks like you shan't be in _my _house. What a shame, now off you trot to Hufflepuff House!"

"I swear Hat! I shall get my revenge!"

"Shut up Mr Potter and take your seat." Pointed McGonagall towards the table occupying the 'Puffs'.

"Fine." Harry turned back to the grinning hat and scowled. "I'll be back for you later... we have a date together including some cloth moths, a sewing needle or two and several lit matches."

Halfway to the Hufflepuff table, which had given a confused scattering of applause in response to his sorting, the Hat spoke up once again. "JUST KIDDING! RAVENCLAW!"

"I really hate you, hat." Harry changed directions and set off towards the Ravenclaw table, where he sat next to Hermione. Again there was a small amount of applause, although this was mainly because people were happy to have the sorting actually moving along again.

Quickly, the rest of the remaining children were sorted. A red headed boy left to join the ranks of the Gryffindor's, accompanied by much applause. Harry thought that he remembered seeing this 'Weasley' boy with some family members while he was waiting at the Platform for Hermione.

"Welcome!" Boomed a voice. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" The old man who had been at the head of the table had stood up and began the speech to usher in another school year. Harry knew that he was Albus Dumbledore and that he was his new Headmaster. He certainly looked the part of a wise old wizard, with his long white beard and hair, his robes and the twinkle in his spectacled eyes. "Before we begin our eagerly anticipated banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" Dumbledore sat down accompanied by loud clapping from all the students and staff.

"I have to admit, he _is _a bit eccentric." Mentioned Hermione to Harry. "Oh look! The food's here!"

Harry had noticed, but he was too busy glaring at it. "Just how the hell did that geezer manage to Magic everything up here by using those four words? Was it some sort of mass Apparation or something? Did he have accomplices to sneak them in while we were too distracted to notice?"

"Harry, its Magic. Since when has it made sense, or ever _will _make sense? That's why its called Magic."

"I really need to step up my Teleportation studies." Decided Harry, giving into his hunger to pile up his plate with food. He could muse later, for now the voice of Saber was right.

"_Hunger is the enemy!"_

"_So is Ignorance!" _Pointed out Rin sharply.

"_What about Boredom?" _Added the True Ancestor Princess.

"_Can we add Evil to the list as well?" _Inquired Shirou bravely.

"_Mongrels are the greatest threat here at the moment!"_

"_I have the feeling that I am going to have a whole heap of enemies by the time I reach adulthood." _Decided Harry prematurely as he took another small bite of his food and ignored the various bickering voices dwelling in his mindscape. _"I just know it."_

XXXXXXXXXX

Harry sat cross legged in the centre of his new abode, alongside Hermione, whom was similarly sat. They were alone. Following the completion of the feast, Harry and his fellow Ravenclaw's were led to a western tower and through a riddle presenting door, into Ravenclaw Tower's circular common room. Following a brisk speech from Professor Flitwick, the head of Ravenclaw House, they were ushered into their allocated dormitories and told to get some rest, since the next day lessons would begin. It would hardly be very well received if any of the new Ravenclaw students underperformed on the first day or term due to something as ridiculous as loss of sleep.

So all of the sensible children fell immediately asleep, save for two.

"I still think that this could have waited until another day." Mentioned Harry as he sat there and breathed methodically in and out.

"Nonsense. Professor Flitwick might have _advised _for us to go to sleep immediately, but I'm sure that he'd understand. This is for the pursuit of knowledge, so losing an hour or so of sleep would hardly change anything." Decided Hermione briskly as she tried to emulate the others boy's breathing pattern.

"An hour or so?" Harry sounded almost amused. "It will probably take months for you to even get started. The only reason I even figured out how to control my Magic directly without a wand is because I started early and figured it out through Accidental Magic. Now that you're past the point of Accidental Magic for the most part, it will be a very different process."

"I learn most things quite easily. I'm sure that I'll figure it out." Hermione admitted the fact whole heartedly. In the past she had always managed to learn most subjects easily, so she hoped that this would be no different.

"I'm being serious though. I know that you're eager and that I promised you that I would teach you, but it _will _take months of your time away from you. We'll have to have regular sessions of this meditation, so you won't be having an early night for quite some time." Harry continued to breathe in and out, which was the core principal of the meditation that he used. Controlling his breath and controlling his emotions, controlling his thoughts and clearing his mind, therefore allowing him to remove all impediments from his body and track his own Magic's progress.

"Its only meditation." Hermione smiled. "Its hardly rocket science."

"Then try and keep your mind empty for an hour then." Retorted the Magic user dryly. "Who knows? After a a few weeks of doing this, you might even catch a glimpse of your Magic."

"Hmm!" Hermione decided that if she was truly dedicated to being taught this wandless Magic for Harry, she might as well put some effort in. She tried to clear her head, to empty her mind of all feelings, thoughts and emotions. She managed it for a few seconds, before her attention began to drift towards what lessons she might end up being taught the next day. She hoped there was Transfiguration or Potions. Even Defence Against the Dark arts would be-

NO! Her mind was wandering! She had to concentrate!

"..."

"..."

"Okay, so this meditation thing isn't quite as simple as I thought it would be." Hermione spoke quietly.

"I know, right?" Harry opened his eyes for the first time in the course of their joint meditation. He cocked his head to one side and looked at his classmate and friend with a large amount of understanding dashed with a liberal amount of amusement. He snorted. "Meditation is hard. _Really _hard. Its a disciplined art of training ones mind. It can't just be grasped over the course of a few minutes. It took weeks of me sitting for hours on end in a dark cupboard under the stairs to clear my mind, and that was only because I had nothing better to do while in there. You're an intelligent girl, Hermione. You think a lot, you try to and want to understand everything. Very rarely will your mind be empty of some puzzle that you're deliberating over, so it might take awhile for you to pick up this skill."

Hermione returned the smile. "Dad always said that I thought to much."

"Quite literally in this case." Harry shut his eyes again, so Hermione followed his lead. He was the teacher here, Hermione always had full respect for what any teacher told her. If Harry told her that it would take some time, then she believed him. Hermione asked for this lesson, so it was only natural that she paid attention in class.

"Who taught you to meditate anyway?"

"The same person that taught me Magic, myself." Harry lips distorted to produce a grin saturated with pride. "I'm not very good at meditation. I'm not very good at Magic really. Hell, I'm not very good at many things. One thing I am good at though, is trying hard. Even if I didn't manage to teach myself Magic or meditation easily, I still did it. It was difficult and tiring, but I persevered until I managed to do it, until I became better at it. You'll do the same. Eventually you'll figure out just what it is that clears your head, and just what it is that will make your Magic flow."

Minutes of silence and attempted meditation passed. Hermione took her friends words to heart and focused on the task at hand more intently. Ignoring the pins and needles now gripping her crossed legs in a strangle hold, she tried to calm her breathing and make it methodical and even.

Breathe in... breathe out. Breathe in... breathe out. Breathe in... breathe out. Again and again Hermione repeated this mantra in her head to try to clear her thoughts. Her thoughts were persistent, they refused to leave for long. No matter what she tried, Hermione couldn't banish every single thought in her head. Either a difficult mathematical question was fluttering around her keen mind, or a slither of excitement for the following day kept bludgeoning her to try and get her to acknowledge it.

Harry was right. Meditation _was _really hard.

"If you taught yourself," Began the girl, unable to stop her mouth from forming the words that she had been wondering, despite the fact that she was trying to clear her mind of _all _thoughts. "then what process did you use to learn all this then."

Again, Harry opened his eyes and regarded the girl with a calm, neutral face. "I used inspiration." He told her. "I remembered old _stories _that I once read, and tried to apply their scenario's to my own dilemma."

"Fiction and fact are different." Informed the boys companion.

"I know. I knew that well, the difference between fact and fiction, no matter how frequently that line seemed to blend the two together."

"Then please explain."

"Well, I suppose its story time then." Harry rolled his shoulders loosely and shuffled in place to get comfier. He gestured for Hermione to do the same. "In a nutshell, I didn't have a pleasant upbringing. I was disliked by my family, ignored by my peers and bullied by my cousin. Life sucked for me, and I was certain as a child that it wouldn't improve. But then I began to read a series of stories, and life didn't seem so bad when I looked at the goings on of the characters within them and compared their hardships to my own."

Harry took a moment or two to compose his thoughts before continuing. "The characters in those stories became my heroes and role models, so I tried to, and still do, attempt to emulate them. One character I tried to mimic over the course of my self taught Magical education was called Tohsaka Rin." Harry smiled gently. Rin's back story always made Harry feel nostalgic, since so much of her past resonated with him. Seeing her struggles helped Harry progress, so maybe hearing of her exploits would assist Hermione?

"In the stories, she was a Magus. Sort of like a Witch, but different. She grew up without her family since her mother was gone and her dad was dead, so she had to be strong for their sake. You see, Magi (The plural for Magus) were very traditional people and Rin was no different. They were Magical scientists, always seeking advancement and new knowledge to further their understanding of Magic, to seek the wellspring of all creation, the Root of existence. Despite being parent-less and having no one to turn to as a child, she still persisted to try and become an excellent Magus. In her free time she studied and studied and studied tomes and documents that taught her Magic, and even without her dad to teach her and limited resources to practise on, she never gave up. She taught herself for the most part, just like I did. Then, even with all this Magic stuff, she managed to become the top student in her non Magical class and keep the position consistently."

Harry looked off into the distance as he told the story. Memories of playing the Unlimited Blade Works route swum through her head, filling his mind with nostalgic experiences of reading small text and discovering more about the enigmatic Tohsaka Rin. "Eventually, she succeeded in her goal. She became an excellent Magus and won a war, then went on to join an establishment for Magi to study at, just like her father had."

"And what is the morale of this tale then?" Asked the book loving girl patiently.

"Well, I suppose the morale is to never give up." Harry shrugged. "Either way, as a child this story and character resonated with me. So when I began to meditate and study my Accidental Magic, I used Rin as a template for my experimentation. 'What Would Rin Do?' was my thought process, so I tried to learn Magic rationally and scientifically. There had to be a reason for my Magic, so I tried to use the mind-frame of a Magus to think things through."

"Its rather silly that a_ story _of all things was responsible for helping you develop this Magic of yours."

"It is, isn't it?" The smile that had been on Harry's face throughout the encounter remained. "It worked though. Rin's Magic and my own is fundamentally different, but she did give me some ideas on how to approach the topic."

"Such as?"

"Well, one method she used in the story to teach someone else Magic was to forcibly open his Magic Circuits, blood vessels of Magic, to help him to use his powers correctly."

"Did you attempt this, opening up these circuits?"

"Me? No." The emerald eyed boy snorted. "For one thing, she was doing it to _someone else_. If I was to make a method like this work, someone else would have to be the one to open any Circuits I did have, so I would have needed someone Magical. If I had someone like this, I wouldn't have needed to teach myself Magic in the first place. Another thing is that once I could manipulate my Magic, I realised that there were no Magical blood vessels to carry Magic around the body. All you have is a Magical Core at the centre of your being, from which your Magic is stored. Now normally, from what I can tell, when someone casts a spell with their wand, the wand will connect up to your core and siphon the Magic off to power the spell, from which point the wand amplifies the spell."

Harry remembered experimenting on using regular spells during the month before he left the Dursleys.

"I never knew that." Remarked Hermione with curiosity. "Did you read that in a book?"

"No. It probably _is_ in a book about Wandlore somewhere, but I just figured this out during the month that I had my wand."

"Carry on." Hermione was leaning forwards intently to better hear her temporary teacher. Harry might not have been a proper teacher, and only had the same amount of theoretical training as her,

but he _did _have a certain way of looking at Magic that was refreshing and enlightening, due to his prior practise in the subject. Even if there was no guarantee that he was right, Hermione was willing to trust his words until either a book or a more knowledgeable teacher said otherwise.

"So what a wand _probably _does is make a link with your core to collect Magic to perform spells. Therefore, non-verbal spell casting is _probably_ just giving the command to the wand to drain you of your Magic without speaking an incantation out loud, while I guess that Wandless casting is _probably _just sendinga tendril of your own Magic out to perform a spell without a wand taking the energy from you, and performing the spell without the wand amplifying its power so that it is actually usable."

"So as a child..."

"Yeah, I was experimenting with manipulating my own Magic, so it was pretty simple for me to cast without a wand since I could already send tendrils of my Magic out."

"So how exactly does your apparently _new _Magic system differ to this current one?"

Harry scratched his head. "To be honest, I don't know. I'm only eleven and I'm not exactly Merlin, am I? So I'm working on limited knowledge and guesswork. I only _think _that what I've been doing is different. There's no guarantee that it is new. My current textbooks don't tell me anything about wandless or non verbal spell casting, so I haven't got a clue about the inner workings of these two types of casting. I'm working on suppose's... as I usually do."

Hermione sighed in slight annoyance. "I really hoped that you knew what you were doing."

Harry gave an equally irritated sigh from his position on the floor. "So do I... so do I. The only reason I think that my Magic is different is because I think that wandless Magic is just performing a spell without the draining and amplification properties of a wand. Its still the same spell as the one cast using a wand, only with a difference in power. Meanwhile, I didn't know any spells, so I _shouldn't_ have known how it should have been performed, so I _shouldn't _have been able to cast anything, even if I could control my Magic! I can't cast a spell silently, because I don't know any spells. So what am I doing to perform all of these deeds that I really don't know how to do?"

Hermione gave no response to the distressed boy, so he shut his eyes once more and returned to meditating. Like before, his friend tried to follow his lead. More minutes passed without success on the Granger girl's part, before she was confident enough to give a suitable answer to her fellow Ravenclaw.

"I really don't know what you're doing. I'm not very good at coming up with new things, only at learning that which has already been done, so I can't offer up any suitable explanation as to what it is that you're doing. All I can do is try to help you as best as I can." Hermione placed a reassuring hand on the boy's leg, much to her own surprise and Harry's (Whom was shocked enough to open his eyes once more, despite his discipline in meditation). "I don't know how much help I can be, but if you teach me what you already know, then I'll try to assist you in any way that I can. I'll try to be like you and like that Rin girl you mentioned earlier. We might not know at the moment, but we can do the... _Magus?_... thing, and try to experiment and figure it out as we go along."

Harry said nothing, merely placing one of his own hands on the girls instead. They sat together in silence for another twenty minutes, before Harry declared that it would be best for both of them to go back to their common rooms and get some rest.

Suffice to say, that was not the last time that the two sat together alone and secluded in the empty, late night Ravenclaw common room, meditating and trying to learn more about Magic.

**AN- Hmmmm... I wasn't really satisfied with this chapter, so I tried to rewrite it a few times, thus the longer update time. Even now I'm not very satisfied with the chapter from the point that Harry meets Neville. Please leave a review and tell me what you thought of this chapter. Any comments or criticism's would greatly be appreciated.**

**I also know that many of you are going to rage at the way I have described the Magical system of Harry Potter. In my defence, JKR leaves the inner workings of her world untold for the most part, while my explanation comes from the words of an eleven year old boy that had only been a part of the Magical community for about a month, so he probably has gotten details wrong.**

**Still trying to decided whether it would be a smart idea to start a forum or not, so you might want to leave an answer to this too. So until next time, Undying Soul out.**


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